


Preferable Reality

by Lafeae, MistressArafax



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Established Relationship, Five Stages of Grief, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Character Studies, Near Death Experiences, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-27 00:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17151665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressArafax/pseuds/MistressArafax
Summary: Life is fragile. Delicate. The daily routine can change in an instant, shaking the foundations of the world, leaving those left behind fragmented and broken. When tragedy strikes, how can Kaiba cope? How can he move on? How can he possibly mend his shattered reality?





	1. Denial

It was easy to fall into routine. Day in, day out. The same places, the same people. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with that. There was comfort in routine. In waking up each morning before the sun rose and following the smell of coffee to the kitchen. In watching daybreak through floor-to-ceiling windows that sometime ago (seven years, six months, thirteen days) they had decided was a better place to live.

Or Joey had decided.

With permission, Kaiba always thought. Permission and a well-rounded argument that they needed their own place. Just the two of them. The idea was met with a healthy dose of skepticism, but Joey had never faltered. Eventually, the idea grew on him, though it happened somewhere in the years since they had lived there. As if he was never fully comfortable with the place beyond the expression on Joey's face as he looked out the wide windows.

Every morning he found Joey sitting beside the windows, curled around a cup of coffee and pretending he wanted to be awake with the sun. Every morning they shared the same dialogue:

"Go back to bed," Kaiba ordered.

"Nah…," Joey yawned, "won't see ya til night."

"I'm sure you'll barge your way into my office."

Joey chuckled beneath the rim of a glass.

Somewhere along the way, Kaiba had added a few minutes in the morning to sit beside Joey. Nothing important happened. Conversation was scarce, mostly spent double-checking his itinerary and going over documents for the day while Joey fought to keep his eyes open, sometimes achieving the goal, sometimes left to sleep. In which case, Kaiba would receive an irritated phone call in the middle of the day, with Joey asking why he hadn't been woken up to see Kaiba off. Common arguments; hardly arguments, just ticks. The cogs of a machine turning together. All because of routine.

It never hit Kaiba how easily he and Joey had slipped into this routine. Perhaps just as easily as they had slipped into a relationship. Quiet, with little ceremony. As if one day he had blinked and there Joey was, smiling and waving. He supposed it was callous to think of it that way; it hadn't been that simple. There had been a long and careful process. It began with what, seemingly, were cruel intentions, their usual angered discourse that hadn't changed much since high school, but slowly, the dialogues gained flirtatious undertones, tempting each other for something beyond coy antagonism.

Eventually, they were nipping at each other's necks, leaving marks behind that Kaiba, in his eternal love of high-necked shirts, hardly worried about. There was no pivotal moment, no forced decision, no ostentatious declarations of love. Maybe once did he recall Joey had asked him, "Are we somethin'?" Though it had been long overdue. They had been intimate by that point.

Now, like then, Kaiba rolled his eyes. 'Something' was watching as Joey's chin touched his chest and wondering if he should wake him this time.

No. Why change routine?

Getting up, setting his tablet on the side table, Kaiba headed towards the bathroom to finish up and head out the door. He briefly paused to admire Joey and shook his head.

By the time he returned to the living room, Joey had disappeared in a patter of light footsteps and, as he checked the side-table, had taken Kaiba's things. He couldn't imagine why, but he followed the footsteps towards the kitchen in time to hear a howled:

"Shit!"

"What did you do, Joseph?"

Joey huffed quietly, making a semi-circle around the island and clambering for a hand-towel with one hand. The other was at his mouth with his pointer finger jammed in. It was around that time that he twirled around to face Kaiba, shaking his head as he pulled his finger from his mouth. "Don't ya say nothin'."

"That depends on what you did."

But he saw the blood before Joey wrapped his finger in the towel. "Nothin'," he said, peeking at his finger before pinching it closed. "Just uh...ya know, breakfast."

"Mm."

"For you."

A curt nod, and Kaiba leaned against the island, gathering up his tablet and the file that was tucked beneath it. "Is that why you took my things?"

"Maybe," Joey said, but he was distracted, revealing the cut again. Though his finger was smeared with blood, the cut itself was relatively shallow. "Guess ya can't leave me around sharp objects this early, huh?" He laughed and stuck his finger in his mouth again, wincing.

Kaiba curled his nose and was quick to circle around and tug Joey's hand away. "That is...absolutely unsanitary."

Joey shrugged. "Makes it feel better."

"I'm sure," Kaiba scoffed, inspecting the wound and leading Joey out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom.

"Hey, it helped when I was a kid, and it helps now. I can't argue with results," Joey said. He dug his heels into the carpet as Kaiba attempted to push him into the bathroom. "I got this, a'right? Go grab breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, I ain't movin' 'til you go get it," Joey said. And though Kaiba was sure, with enough force and leverage, that he could push Joey into the bathroom, he backed off. "I cut my finger for it, after all. You should indulge me."

"Oh, I should?" Kaiba asked.

"Yup."

Kaiba raised a brow. "And if I don't?"

It was all hypothetical, playful, a little stubborn. Enough to make either one of them laugh, but they managed to keep it buttoned down and, instead, indulge the mock challenge. Though in the mirror, Kaiba caught the way Joey's eyes danced and his cheeks rose, his smile wide but tight-lipped.

"Well, then you're an asshole who's jus' gonna break my little heart."

"Is that all?" Kaiba asked, arms crossed. "Well, I'll take that risk. I'm running late as it is."

As Kaiba turned away, he heard hands slap against Joey's chest, and he stumbled backwards out of the bathroom, hitting the wall and sliding along it. Somewhere along the way, he began making hissed, choking noises.

"Oh no!" Joey cried, getting as close to the threshold of the kitchen as he could before sliding down it. "There….there it goes...he's done it! My little heart….I can feel it…" The guttural noises reminded him more of the sound of someone trying to fake static on a phone. Joey had slid completely down the threshold and was lying between the hall and the kitchen, hands still clasped at his chest. "It's...ahh no...I see the light...I...tell Kaiba I….bleeeh!" Joey finished, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth.

Kaiba approached the 'corpse' with mirth in his expression, standing over top of Joey and wondering just how long he was willing to stay on the floor. After a minute, with Joey relatively still, the executive said: "The floor is dirtier than your mouth, by the way."

"Dead. Can't hear ya," Joey said and popped his tongue out again.

"Mm-hm. Well, I'll let the maid know about the body in the kitchen," Kaiba said, and he didn't hesitate to head towards the front door and throw on his coat, counting under his breath. He was at fifty-four seconds, another solid minute of Joey lying on the kitchen floor, before footsteps came up from behind. Predictable. Joey was beautifully predictable, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"You're such a jerk," Joey said, wrapping his arms around Kaiba's neck.

"Tell me something I don't know."

Joey snickered, and warm breath prickled hair on the back on Kaiba's neck. "Could, but I'd rather tell ya that I love ya."

"I love you too, Joseph," he replied. Slowly, Joey's arms slipped away. "I'll see you tonight."

"Don't be late again. We're headin' over to the Children's Home. Remember? I told them we'd work on some stuff for the holidays," Joey said, though his words became faded as he walked back through the house.

Kaiba nodded in acknowledgement. Holidays. They were coming up fast—he hadn't spent much time thinking about gifts for Joey or Mokuba. That was alright though, he thought as he slipped into the car, he had plenty of time.

—

The days often went so fast, it was like time bled away. It was the reason that Kaiba came home late, much to Joey's contention. Once normal business hours passed, he found himself working on other projects. Sometimes by himself, sometimes with R and D. Mentally, Kaiba set a timer for when he was supposed to stop, but it always ended up being more of a guideline than a hard truth. Were he to actually follow it, there would have been some kind of notification on his phone. Which, really, Joey was always his notification. A phone call. A 'where r u' text that woke him up from whatever work-induced haze that gripped him.

Even with the thought in mind that he had to leave at a decent hour, Kaiba was still elbow deep in a project. Something on the mechanical side, something that he could tinker on for hours. Thought fodder, really, something to clear his mind while he hashed out future plans. Whatever those were—he'd been carrying around a custom-made ring for the last few days, trying to figure out the best way to approach Joey with a proposal while not also making an event of it. It wasn't a big deal to give their companionship any kind of labels. Realistically, it was just signing paperwork, putting different names on trusts and accounts. Giving Joey a little more legal liability, not that he needed to take _that_ risk. But he wanted to.

The only outlier was Joey who had become comfortable in the nebulous parameters of their relationship. Then again, Joey had a tendency to just wing it and throw caution to the wind. It wasn't always appreciated, but then, it was rarely denied.

Joey gave his life a level of randomness that was acceptable. In the sort of way that only Mokuba could manage—as if Joey had studied just how to make it work before approaching, and yet Kaiba knew Joey never studied for anything. Ever.

That was part of Joey's charm, Kaiba considered. His natural understanding of people, which he seemed to have develop in spite of his inherent lack of social graces. It wasn't something Kaiba noticed in high school. They had been too busy arguing with each other instead.

But Mokuba? Sometimes, he wondered how long Mokuba knew and didn't tell him. When they finally admitted there was something going on, Mokuba laughed at them.

Watching their friendship develop separately had been amusing. It was a little different from how the nerd herd were; something about Joey was more in-tune with Mokuba. They were two mischievous peas hiding in a sweet pod. The friendship was one thing—being his confidant was another. There was a point when Kaiba hadn't been reachable, and Joey had become an acceptable stand-in. Which meant more than he could explain to Joey at the time. He'd been angry at first, feeling replaced, but it waned into a quiet acceptance. By that point, they were tentatively together and still feeling each other out.

Stretching his back, Kaiba raised up from the hunched position and looked over his work. It didn't seem like much was accomplished, given the general disarray of the work desk. Idly, he checked his phone. No messages. The time was forgotten as soon as he looked at it. Not that it mattered. Without messages awaiting him, clearly, it wasn't too late. It didn't feel too late, either. So he dove back into work.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard the door open. He lifted up and glanced up to see who it was. Roland. "What do you want?" he asked to the footsteps.

"Master Seto," Roland addressed.

Any tools were sat down, and he checked his phone again. 19:57. Damn. Later than he expected. "Joseph sent you, didn't he?" Kaiba sighed.

Silence.

Roland was statuesque, his hands folded at his waist. Discomfort colored his face. Whatever it was, Kaiba steeled himself for bad news, running through a list of possibilities, either business or personal. At least then he could start figuring out solutions. "What's going on?"

"It's Master Joey, he…well," Roland cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, sir, but he's passed away. I…"

Kaiba didn't let Roland finish. A wry smile appeared, and he relaxed back in his chair. "Uh-huh. He's getting elaborate enough to send you in when I'm late?" He chuckled. "Since he's turned you into a courier temporarily, tell him I'll be home soon."

Kaiba turned his attention back to his work, picking the tools up again to refocus on his project. This was just a joke; Roland was being a good actor.

Roland walked closer, standing beside him and setting a hand on his shoulder.

"Master Seto. This is difficult for me to tell you. I can imagine that...comprehending it is even harder. But he was found—"

Kaiba closed his eyes, the strained grin waning. "In the kitchen?"

Roland shook his head. "In the bed."

Kaiba pursed his lips, sitting still beneath Roland's touch. He was right: it was hard to comprehend. An elaborate ruse, a joke. Joey pulling all the stops this time to tell Kaiba that he was tired of the executive spending time at work. But that was just a matter of fact. Joey knew that coming into the relationship.

The tools dropped from Kaiba's hands, suddenly heavier. As if gravity was weighing down against his shoulders. It couldn't be true. Joey must have told Roland to be serious and stricken.

"He must have really begged you to get you to do this."

"Sir?" Roland asked, confused.

Kaiba sneered and grabbed his phone, pulling up the long stream of texts. "If you won't tell him, then he's going to hear it from me. Now and later."

"Sir I—,"

"Is it really that hard for him to call? Send a message?"

"Master Seto, please—,"

"And he's not the only one that's going to be getting an earful either!" Kaiba said, hitting the glass of his phone hard enough that the pixels shimmered. "You're in on this, too. Somehow Joseph convinced you this would all go over well! Tell me, Roland, do you think this is funny?"

Anger flourished through Kaiba in place of something else, something he assumed was sadness, but he couldn't fathom why he needed to be sad. This was all an unacceptable joke; as soon as he got his hands on Joey, he would let the blond know just how much he hated this, how this wasn't the way to do things. Do what? Joke around about death, as he had so casually done in the kitchen that morning?

The letters on the phone screen blurred together.

The tension built inside him, muscles constricting, toes curling. A headache was his reward for holding back. And Roland's hand still rested on his shoulder, strong and assuring. It held back the worst of his frustration, and his want to jump up and run home to prove his assistant wrong. He had to be.

"If it makes you more comfortable to blame me, I understand," Roland finally said. Kaiba snapped back into reality. The room, and its contents, hadn't moved. His phone was still in hand, a half-typed message, mostly gibberish, beneath his thumb. "But I would never lie to you nor joke about this."

All the pent up energy resulted in Kaiba bucking Roland's hand away, pitching his phone across the room. It was satisfying to hear it shatter against the wall and fall to pieces on the floor. The anger remained, however, fatigue also hit him like a truck.

Kaiba's hands raked through his bangs, grabbing onto the hairs to stop his head from slowly dipping down, refusing to submit to the tiring defeat.

"We don't have a protocol in place should something happen to Master Joey. I...hesitate to ask but…" Roland started, and Kaiba opened his eyes to watch him speak, hearing the words but not processing them. He stood suddenly.

"Where's Mokuba?"

"I imagine he's at home at this hour."

"He wasn't harmed?" Kaiba asked.

Roland shook his head. "No. They weren't together. And even if they were...it doesn't appear as if Master Joey was attacked. The maid said she thought he was just sleeping."

Kaiba nodded, storing the information but not commenting. Instead, he said: "Take me to Mokuba." He could hear the monotone, disregard for anything in his voice. Not even knowing Mokuba was safe made him feel much better, but being with him would be better than being alone. Plus, someone had to tell him. It would get to him one way or another.

Along the way, Kaiba switched into autopilot, drifting in and out of awareness. Occasionally, he found himself fiddling with the ring-box in his pocket, letting it go once he realised what he was doing. The quiet was unsettling, but he couldn't bring himself to initiate conversation, let alone ask any questions that came to mind. He suspected Roland took this as a sign to stay politely quiet as well, offering short smiles in the rearview before focusing back on the road.

Listless, Kaiba turned to the window, the manor just in the distance. Before reaching Mokuba, he needed to figure out the next step.

"Autopsy," he said. The word didn't even sound right.

"For Master Joey?"

"Yes."

"I'll make sure it's taken care of," Roland said.

Absently, he replied: "Be sure you do," in such a way that it he felt like he had ordered Roland to go to the store, or pick someone up from the airport. Surreal was probably the best word, but he couldn't quite place where he was, physically or mentally. One second he was in the office, then in the car, then in the manor. Phasing through moments while he tried to wrap his mind around what was, essentially, a new reality.

"Seto?" Kaiba blinked, trying to recall exactly how he'd gotten here. Mokuba was standing in front him, head cocked and brows furrowed. "Is everything okay…?"

Kaiba's lips thinned. "I need to talk to you."

"You could have called," Mokuba said. Nervous laughter hung in his words. "What's up?"

Kaiba stepped over to the couch, sitting down and motioning for Mokuba to do the same. Slowly, the younger brother followed, his quizzical glances growing stronger. The quiet in the room settled like dust, enveloping them, but never leaving them comfortable. "It's about Joseph. This evening, apparently he…" Kaiba paused, his voice lost. The words hung on the tip of his tongue. Lies. He didn't lie to Mokuba. "Roland's told me that…"

Mokuba shifted closer, squeezing Kaiba's forearm. "You're scaring me. What happened?"

Several tense moments passed by. Kaiba locked up beneath Mokuba's touch. Instead, he looked Mokuba in the eye, demanding he understand without words. He had to. This wasn't going to be said because it wasn't true.

A spark flashed behind Mokuba's grey eyes.

"Roland? What the hell's going on? Were they attacked?" Mokuba jumped up and rushed around the back of the couch to reach Roland. Kaiba shook his head, but he wasn't sure Mokuba saw it. "Where is Joey then? If he's in the hospital you gotta take me…"

"Master Joey has passed away," Roland said.

"What?" Mokuba squeaked. He looked between Roland and Kaiba, seeking more answers as tears welled in his eyes. He backed into the couch. "When...how?"

"Sometime this evening. We're not entirely sure how, other than it doesn't appear malicious."

Mokuba's breaths became short, his hand muffling the hiccups. He staggered around to sit back on the couch, collapsing beside Kaiba and leaning into his shoulder holding himself together for only a few moments before even he curled into Kaiba's side, hugging him until it hurt. He reciprocated, his hand running through the knotted mess of black hair.

They sat together for a long time, until Mokuba's breath evened out and he rested on Kaiba simply because he was tired. Or Kaiba assumed. It was probably the same kind of emotional fatigue he was experiencing. Burned out, wanting to sleep and hope that this wasn't true in the morning. Maybe that was just him.

"I'm so sorry," Mokuba murmured.

"Why?"

Mokuba pulled away, releasing a fistful of shirt to instead clutch onto Kaiba's hand. "I just mean...for you because...you and Joey and...I dunno. I don't know what to say."

"Then don't," Kaiba replied.

Mokuba sighed heavily. He wiggled about, moving away from Kaiba's side to give them both space, never letting go of his hand. Kaiba would have taken it back if he did. "Are you okay?"

"I'm tired."

A partial truth. He _was_ tired, but it wasn't just physical fatigue. It was more than he could express to himself or Mokuba at the moment, though anything more than monosyllabic would be a chore. "Yeah, I get that. You should stay here for that night. Maybe…we can figure out...something. Like, I think I need to call Serenity. Or someone, I dunno…"

Mokuba trailed off, leaving Kaiba to wonder what was next. Though he said he was tired, he was nowhere near ready to go to bed. There wasn't much waiting for him there, anyways.

"Is the office still set up?" Kaiba asked.

"Yeah, should be."

Kaiba squeezed Mokuba's hand, wanting to pull him along and not let him out of his sight, but he reluctantly let go. "If you need me, I'll be in there."

"Oh, okay."

Realistically, Mokuba didn't want him to leave either. Kaiba heard it in his squelched voice, a ten year old invading an adult's body, asking questions Kaiba didn't have answers to. Demanding consolation that, for Kaiba, didn't seem necessary.

After all, this was just a sick joke.

—

Shifting her freshly changed, six-month-old daughter, Grace, into one arm, Serenity Wheeler Thomas reached for her cell phone as she received a third call in a row. A quick glance at the screen indicated Mokuba had called her all three times, and while it wasn't as though Mokuba never contacted her, the fact that he'd been trying to reach her so incessantly over the last few minutes and that it was so late put her instantly on edge. It meant something had happened to Joey. As she accepted the call, she steeled her nerves, trying to rein in the soaring anxiety she felt, greeting, "Hi, Mokuba. What's up?"

She heard him draw a beleaguered breath before replying, "Hey." He sounded exhausted, and Serenity's unease grew. "I uh... I need to talk to you about Joey."

Worry twisted in her chest. "What about him?" she whispered, barely able to bring herself to speak.

"It's..." he trailed off, and she thought she heard him sniffling. "God, I can't even believe it," he choked out, and she instantly knew he was crying. "I'm so sorry, Serenity. Joey passed away today."

A gasp caught in her throat, heart dropping, disbelief and panic both beginning to overwhelm her. "That... that can't be true," she stuttered, instantly feeling tears building in her eyes. "That's a joke, right? You're joking with me, right? Mokuba, please tell me it's a joke."

"I'd never joke about this," Mokuba stated in a hushed, course voice. "It happened suddenly. I was—" His voice cracked, and he sniffled into the phone. He composed himself after a moment, continuing, "I was with him and Seto last night. Everything was fine. We don't know what happened yet, but Roland said it didn't look like he was attacked or anything, and Seto is having an autopsy done so we're going to find out. I'm so so sorry, Serenity."

Tears streamed down her face, and she didn't bother to stop them, instead tucking her hand into the sleeve of her sweater and using it to wipe them away as they fell. "I… can't believe it," she whispered through her tears.

"We're all devastated. If… If you need anything, anything at all, let us… Let me know."

"Okay…" she breathed.

"I mean it. Don't hesitate to call me for anything," Mokuba said. "Seto and I will pay for the funeral, so you don't… you won't have to worry about that. But I think we might need some help from you."

"H-help?" she squeaked.

"Yeah. With like... some decisions. You and Seto need to decide some things."

"Mmm," she agreed with a hum. Sitting down, still holding her young daughter, she felt all of the energy drain out of her.

"I'll be in contact with you later, okay? We're going to hold a press conference in the morning. People are gonna ask, and it's better just to be up front about stuff like this. But I wanted to make sure I told you first. And... can you tell your mom for me? I don't have a way to get a hold of her, and she should know."

"Yeah," she agreed weakly. "Yeah, I can do that."

Mokuba said his goodbyes after that, leaving Serenity to sit in the rocking chair in the nursery, phone discarded off to the side on a dresser, and clutching young Grace to her chest as she cried. Joey, her big brother, was dead. He wouldn't call her to complain about stupid stuff or laugh or joke with her anymore. She wouldn't randomly go have dinner with him when Kaiba was out of town. Grace would never get to grow up knowing her uncle who had absolutely adored her. There were so many things that she loved doing with Joey that she would never do again and so many things she would miss about him. It was all so much to process and unbelievably heartbreaking.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, lost in her thoughts though the tears had dried up. Eventually though, her husband wandered into the room, and he gently touched her shoulder. "What's wrong, Serenity?" he asked, carefully taking Grace from her arms.

"Joey… Joey died," she whispered to him, and she could feel fresh tears building in her eyes as she spoke the words.

"Oh no…" he whispered, free hand covering his mouth and pulling down as he visibly fought back his own tears. She needed the comforting embrace of another person, of someone who loved her, and she stood up and walked towards him. He pulled her into a tight hug, careful to keep Grace safely to the side, and repeatedly kissing the top of Serenity's head. He asked nothing further, only held her reassuringly, and she clung to him. His warmth and familiarity.

They stayed like that until Grace started fussing, crying because she was tired, and it was well past her bedtime. Her husband placed Grace into her crib, singing to her gently, and Serenity sighed as she picked up her phone. Resolutely, she called their mother, setting to do the one thing she said she'd do before she gave herself time to process things and shut down for the rest of the night.

—

Mai rather liked her nomadic lifestyle, finding it incredibly fun to travel around cities all over the world, playing in tournaments. Usually Duel Monsters, but there were a few other competitive card games she liked to play when the opportunity arose. Her sponsor at the moment, a clothing brand specializing in trendy designs that matched her style, dressed her in their latest looks and paid her to wear their clothing in tournaments. They kept her looking chic, took care of the entry fees, paid for her travel and lodging. While they weren't a company focused on dueling in any way, they bought her new cards and the latest technology produced by KaibaCorp. All she had to do was show up to play. They didn't even really care if she won. She was one of the few female professional players and advancing to the televised matches was the only real requirement they placed on her. "It would be great if you won," they'd said, "but we want people to see you wearing our clothes." It took a lot of pressure off, but it gave her plenty of room to live up to her own expectations. She wanted to make herself and her friends proud.

She'd finished in third place at a holiday tournament earlier in the day and expected to catch some flack for it. Joey liked to tease her when she didn't win, and sometimes she thought that Kaiba's influence might have rubbed off on him a bit too much. Not that he wasn't still the same radiant, sunshine-y person she'd first met all those years ago, but he had a little more bite to him now. He possessed an edge he'd lacked before, making him more calculating and more level-headed. Though he rarely actually attended tournaments as a competitor, Kaiba's influence on his play style and personality were obvious. He was still having fun, but he was not someone to take lightly. Mai could easily connect it to his relationship with Kaiba.

She'd been surprised when Joey told her they were seeing each other.

"Seeing each other?"

"Yeah, ya know. Like datin'."

"I thought you hated his guts," she'd stated.

"Not s'much, turns out," he'd said with a shrug, as though it wasn't a big deal. But it kind of was a big deal. She'd known the minute he'd told her. At one point, she thought he'd been interested in her, though it had quickly fizzled due to their age difference and settled into a friendship she valued. He'd occasionally complain about his dating woes and how he just never really felt himself click with any of the girls he dated, and she would do the same for the endless stream of men vying for her affection. When he mentioned Kaiba, so casually and almost...embarrassed about it, she believed him despite her skepticism. "I actually really like him," he'd said softly, a flush creeping across his cheeks.

"Why?" she had asked quietly, looking for an explanation. "He's always been a royal ass to you. It just seems so random and out of the blue."

The smile that had spread across his face said more than his words ever could, and his words said plenty. "When he lets ya in past that wall he's built, an' it takes a while, trust me, ya jus'... never wanna leave. Seein' him smile for me, 'cause a' me... I ain't experienced nothin' better in the world."

Joey had never told her the extent of why they were together or what had changed between them, but she was aware that she probably knew more than most others. He'd confide in her, tell her about how he sometimes didn't feel good enough for someone like Kaiba. He'd share cute stories about Kaiba and the things they did together. Sometimes it seemed like he was talking about a person she had never met because the Kaiba she heard about wasn't the one she knew. Plus, any time Mai witnessed them together, they bickered with each other. It was more teasing than mean, but to a casual onlooker, it seemed as though they hardly got along.

As her thoughts travelled back to the day that Joey had told her, how she'd been pleased to be the first person he'd come out to, she removed her clothing in order to take a shower. She flicked on the TV and also turned her phone back on. It was an old habit, turning off her phone before the tournament started and leaving it off during the duration of the matches to prevent any distractions. She saw notifications, but she wanted a shower before she looked at them. The December day in Australia had been quite warm, and after spending it dueling in the sun, she felt grimy. She would be joining the afterparty for the duelists once she was finished getting cleaned up, but she wasn't in any hurry to get through her routine. The drinks would still be served whether or not she was late. She had received several messages while she was in the shower. Joey, she was sure, so she'd check them later when she wanted a distraction from the morons who'd certainly try to hit on her.

She finished blow drying her hair, her phone vibrating several times to indicate she'd received more messages. She thought it unusual, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility to receive so many messages at once, especially after having her phone off for so long.

She walked back into the room, dropping her towel to reach for the slinky black dress she was going to wear. At the mention of the name 'Seto Kaiba', her attention went to the TV.

"... _President of Kaiba Corporation, is holding a press conference outside of the Kaiba Corporation Headquarters in Domino City this morning. We tune in live..."_

Mai noticed the somber looks on both Kaiba brother's faces. The elder brother's face was blank, emotionless. A complete mask. Mokuba, on the other hand, had red-rimmed eyes, an indication of him crying, and suddenly, trepidation spread through her entire being. Something bad had happened, but she couldn't guess what. Mokuba was the one who stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat. "This has been a tough twelve hours for us, but we wanted to be open and prevent the spread of rumors. We have no reason to believe what happened was an attack or intentional. It's still being investigated, but we ask for your understanding as we process everything and try to come to terms with what happened to Joey today."

"Joey?" Mai asked aloud, heart hammering in her throat.

"If it wasn't intentional, do you know why Mr. Wheeler died?" one of the reporters asked.

Mai didn't hear the rest of the press conference after that, her mind flooding with disbelief. Joey? Dead? That couldn't be true. What were they talking about? She opened her phone. Messages from Téa. And Yugi. And Tristan. All letting her know. All giving her the bad news that Joey had been found dead earlier. None of it made any sense, and she found herself no longer able to stand, dropping to the floor, hands shaking as she fought back a sob. He couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible.

She didn't want to be alone. She didn't want to go to some stupid party full of strangers she barely knew. She wanted to be around friends. She needed to see them. To hug them. To cry with them. Reality set in as she threw clothes on and packed her bags, tears streaming down her face. She didn't bother to wipe them away, and as she sat in the hotel lobby waiting for a cab to pick her up and take her to the airport, the somber atmosphere made her aware that everyone here, all the professional duelists who knew Joey, mourned the loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MistressArafax: Sorry for all the pain here. ^^ But it's a fun adventure, I promise. Painful, but fun. For me, this is an interesting project because as I've worked on it, I actually went through the whole grieving process myself after losing someone I know. I hope you enjoy it even though it is a hard topic.
> 
> Lafeae: this is super hard topic that we knew was dark, but were curious to play out. We had actually worked on it both separately and told each other. We hope that, in spite of the pain, that it’s interesting story for you all. Please, enjoy. And don’t be shy to tell us what you think.


	2. Anger

Standing just outside the doorway of his brother's office at KaibaCorp headquarters, Mokuba tried to compose his thoughts. He did _not_ feel prepared for the conversation he was about to have with Seto, but they absolutely needed to have it. It wasn't like Joey had a will, and despite going home after holding the press conference earlier, calls had poured in one after the other, each requesting details regarding funeral arrangements, and Mokuba had no answers. The calls were all being transferred to his cell phone, sent from Seto's personal assistant or Seto himself. They asked for Mr. Kaiba, but it took seconds for Mokuba to understand that they were looking for his brother, and his brother refused to answer. Even his own calls to Seto were being forwarded back to him.

He didn't appreciate having this responsibility dumped on him without a word of warning. Seto wasn't the only one suffering from the sudden permeating emptiness that resulted from Joey being gone. He was hurting, too. He felt like a part of himself had been ripped out, left wounded and exposed. If Seto wanted him to talk to people and make the arrangements, he would, but he still needed his brother's input. Joey was his friend, close enough that he considered him a brother, but it wasn't within his rights to make decisions about his funeral. Seto's? Yes. Serenity's? Absolutely. Serenity, however, was beyond stressed about even making the trip to Domino for the funeral. Her struggling meant Mokuba had decided to only call her about some of the major decisions, so he needed to talk to Seto and get some answers.

Drawing a steadying breath, he walked into Seto's office. Seto focused all his attention on his computer screen, not noticing Mokuba's entrance until he flopped himself down on a chair in front of the desk. "You should be at home," Mokuba announced.

A blank stare was sent his way before returning to the monitor. "Why?"

Mokuba raised an eyebrow, confused. "'Why?' Uh… Earth to Seto. Bereavement leave. You get to take some time off when people you care about die. No one expects you to be here, and there's stuff you need to take care of."

"You're taking care of it." Seto's eyes did not leave the screen, quickly typing a response to an email, and Mokuba felt irritation bubble up inside of him.

"No, I'm not. Not until you make some decisions about things first."

"Yes. You are, and you will do so without my help."

Mokuba frowned and stood up. "He wasn't my boyfriend, Seto. I hardly have the right to decide if he's buried or cremated. Or where he's going to be laid to rest. Or hell, even what to do with his things. You have to decide that. You have to talk to Serenity and iron out what you think is best."

"No," he replied, still not looking away from the screen, but his brow was creased and the typing abruptly stopped. "And… he isn't my boyfriend."

The denial was more than his already fractured heart could bear, breaking it completely. His eyes blurred with tears, and he felt the back of his throat burn as he tried to fight them down. All of his pain and sorrow quickly morphed to anger, rage seeping out of his pores as he leaned forward over Seto's desk, palms pressed flat against the top both for support and to keep himself from punching his brother in the Goddamned face. Seething, he laid into Seto with tears streaming down his face. "God damn it. You love him. I fucking love him, too. He's family! I don't care about the semantics or whatever bullshit you decided to frame your relationship around. You can't pretend he doesn't mean anything because he's not technically your 'boyfriend'! You can't just ignore what happened because you're hurting!"

He had Seto's full attention now, his piercing blue eyes focused on Mokuba and radiating fury. He wasn't sure if it was fury at the words Mokuba had said or Seto's own pain twisting itself into anger. Most would have shriveled back in fear at the penetrating gaze, but not Mokuba. Instead, he glared back, assured that Seto would do nothing to him and adamant about driving his point home. "Get out," Seto ordered, voice icy and dangerous.

A tremor of fear pulsed through him, causing him to rein in his temper. Never once had he heard his brother direct such vitriol toward him. The Seto who sat before him was wounded and angry, a coiled spring waiting to unleash his rage. Instinctively, he understood nothing good would come from them fighting right now. Refusing to move, he took a breath and forced himself to relax his posture on the exhale, softening his voice. "No," he said resolutely. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what he means to you. What is Joey to you, Seto?"

Seto's ire dissolved, his face etching with pain, and then he averted his eyes. "He's… he's everything," Seto whispered, voice cracking with emotion. Mokuba pulled away from his desk, eyes wide. He hadn't really expected an answer considering the acid he'd heard in Seto's tone not even a minute earlier. He'd anticipated a few more angry words being sent his way before he inevitably got chased out, and to instead have Seto be so vulnerable with him, so unexpectedly honest with his feelings, startled him. It made him look at his brother, really look at him, and see past the Seto he idolized, the protective older brother. See him not for the larger than life persona he projected but for the human underneath. The broken and hurting human who had suffered yet another loss in a long string of losses. And this one had crippled him. He'd lost the only person he'd ever actively chosen to love, and he wasn't ready to accept it. One look, and he could read the utter defeat that marred Seto's expression.

"I…okay, Seto," he finally agreed, taking another step backwards, away from the desk. "I'll take care of it." Because clearly Seto wouldn't be able to bring himself to.

"Mmm." Seto turned back to whatever he'd been working on before, and Mokuba turned around to leave. He was nearly at the door when he heard Seto softly call, "Wait."

He glanced over his shoulder, expectantly asking, "Yes?"

"Have him buried."

Mokuba waited briefly for more instructions, but when they never came, he continued out of the office. Already being in the building, he decided to go to his own office just to check on a few things before leaving, removing his coat and throwing it on one of the chairs facing his desk. He sat down in his seat with a sigh, logged into his computer, and then looked through the multitude of emails that had accumulated overnight. Most of them were condolence emails from coworkers, acquaintances, and corporate partners. He wouldn't reply to them since he now faced the almost overwhelming task of planning Joey's funeral, but he forwarded them to Seto's assistant, asking the middle-aged woman to send out thank you responses.

He grabbed his phone, sending a brief message to Serenity. 'Seto left the planning to me. Can you write an obituary and email it to me? I'll take care of getting it published, but I don't think I should write it.'

Within seconds, she replied, 'Yes.'

'Seto wants to bury him. Is that okay?'

'It's fine.' She quickly followed it up with another message, saying, 'He should have a black casket with red lining. It suits him.'

He smiled for the first time in what felt like ages, though it hadn't even been 24 hours yet. He knew she was hurting, likely worse than he was, but her willing attitude reassured and soothed him after his encounter with Seto. 'Then that's what he'll have. I don't know where we're going to bury him though. Thoughts?'

'Hmm… not with our dad.'

No, definitely not. And not anywhere close to Gozaburo, either. He'd need to think about that one for a bit. 'I'll figure something out,' he replied, and then he focused his attention on doing just that, call after call until a decision could finally be made. They were not easy to come by, not on his own. He constantly messaged Serenity for advice, and suddenly, he had an idea. If she would come help him with this, he'd take care of all her travel woes.

—

When Mokuba had called and asked her if she'd be willing to come help him get everything together, Serenity had agreed. Thanks to that, and Mokuba offering to pay for everything and put them up, Serenity and her family had managed to arrive much earlier than she expected. He had bought train tickets for them, sent a driver to pick them up at the train station, and given them a room in the manor to stay in. She would never have been able to properly express her gratitude to him, though her attempt to do so had been met with Mokuba thanking her instead.

"Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you for everything."

"Because you came to help me out."

"Of course I came. He's my brother. I want to make sure things are right for him."

"Still," Mokuba insisted, "you didn't have to come early. I really appreciate it."

Serenity chose not to comment on the fact that the main reason she'd come was that Mokuba seemed incredibly stressed every time he messaged or called her. And he'd done both frequently. He hadn't said much about it, but it seemed like his brother had actively removed himself from all funeral planning. Other than specifying that he wanted Joey buried, Seto hadn't suggested anything else. Doing all of the planning for his brother meant that Mokuba had placed a lot of pressure on himself to do things right and to live up to Seto's expectations. To make the funeral something Seto would plan if he were in the right frame of mind to do it himself. She appreciated Mokuba's effort for her brother, and so she, while stressed and upset herself, wanted to help him. Both for Joey's sake and also as a way of saying thank you for all the Kaiba brothers had done for her and her brother over the years. She could push aside her pain for just a bit to make sure Joey's send off went smoothly.

She'd arrived in the mid-afternoon, and she had quickly realized how much Mokuba really did need her help. She spent a few minutes settling in and freshening up before heading out with Mokuba, leaving Grace at the manor with her husband. Mokuba first took her to a nearby cemetery, explaining that this was the best place he could find on such short notice.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Is this good?"

"Wouldn't your brother prefer to have him buried at the manor? That seems like something he'd want," Serenity commented. Saying it aloud reminded her that they were going to need a headstone.

"I thought about it, but I… I dunno. He's being so… removed from all of this. It's not like him. I don't know that he'd want Joey so close to him."

Serenity let out a breath, watching it swirl in the cold air. "I think he might want that distance right now, but don't you think that will change, eventually? I know Joey would want to be close to him," she said it softly, almost a whisper because she knew how much her brother loved Seto. She'd known it longer than anyone else, listening to him on the phone as he questioned his shifting feelings. Sharing that something was changing between them but not being able to properly explain it to her. He'd tell her about their interactions and ask her what they meant, if there was more to them, and one day, she'd just point blank told him, "Listen, you're in love with him, and it kind of sounds like he feels the same way." The memory brought a smile to her face.

Mokuba seemed to be weighing her suggestion, and then he nodded. "You're right," he said. He pulled out his phone and made a call, Serenity wasn't sure to who exactly, but she heard enough of the conversation to know he was speaking to someone about taking care of whatever needed done to let them have a private cemetery on the manor grounds. "I don't care about the paperwork," he said sternly. "Just make it happen. ASAP."

With a scowl, he disconnected the call and tucked the phone back into his coat pocket. He dragged a hand over his face and gave Serenity a weary smile. "Are they being difficult?" she asked.

"No more than usual," he admitted with a shrug. He turned around and headed back to his car, Serenity trailing behind him. He opened the front door for her, and she settled into the passenger seat as he shut the door and then walked around to get into the driver's seat. They were off to the next stop, the funeral home taking care of the preparations. Mokuba was welcomed warmly by an older woman, and after he introduced Serenity, she was given a warm welcome, as well.

The conversation immediately went to arrangements and planning, with Mokuba explaining that they'd be having a service in a church nearby and then transporting the body over to the manor for burial.

"Very well, Mr. Kaiba. The casket you selected should be here tomorrow afternoon, so we can finish up preparations then. We are going to need an outfit to dress Mr. Wheeler in. Do you have anything selected?"

Mokuba's eyes went wide, and he shook his head, confused. "No."

"Well… I presume you want something nicer than a hospital gown. Just bring us something tomorrow, and we'll get him all good to go."

Mokuba nodded and shot Serenity a look. She could see how surprised he was. Clearly, he had no idea what Joey should wear, and honestly, Serenity didn't either. But that's why she was here, to help him with this kind of thing, so she said, "We'll go pick something out for him this evening."

"Okay," the woman agreed. "You can also include a trinket or two. Something important to him that you want him to have."

They both nodded, and after a few more minutes of conversing, they left to continue on to their next destination, a previously unplanned stop at the penthouse Joey and Seto had called home. Serenity had, of course, been there before, and Mokuba was obviously there often enough to have his own key, which he used to let them both in. She imagined this would be the last time she ever came here as she looked over the living area and the kitchen. Seto would likely move back to the manor with Mokuba after everything had settled, and even if he did continue living in the penthouse by himself, she doubted he would ever invite her over.

The place was clean, just like it always was. A perk of having a maid tidy the place up regularly. Probably a good thing considering how messy Joey always made things. Somewhere in here was the place where Joey had died, the bedroom, she recalled, and the thought made her feel unsettled. There were other memories, too. Memories of sitting on the couch with him to watch a movie or at the table in the dining room for dinner. Really, any time Seto left for a business trip, Joey invited her over, and up until a few months ago, when Grace's birth had made it too difficult to manage, she would go.

As she looked around the room, she remembered a conversation she'd had with Joey almost two years ago, sitting on a chair in the living room, messing with her phone while a commercial played on TV. "Do you know what Joey asked me once?" Serenity mused aloud. She continued, imitating his voice the best she could. "' _Do ya think Seto misses me when he's away?_ '"

Mokuba turned to face her, eyebrows furrowed. "He did?"

She nodded. "Yeah. About two years ago. Seto was on a business trip, and Joey had invited me over. And he wanted to know if I thought Seto missed him."

"I'm sure Seto did," Mokuba said.

"That's what I told him. 'I'm sure he does'."

"Seto misses him now," Mokuba said before he drew his lips in, eyes glistening with tears that hadn't yet begun to fall, and he tried to blink them away. "God, I miss him so much. He's… he was like my other big brother, you know? I counted on him as much as I count on Seto. Now he's gone, and it's left Seto such a mess that I can't even count on him, either." His voice cracked at the end, and he stopped fighting back the tears. Watching him bury his face in his hands, Serenity felt his pain, too. She was living with the same pain, after all. Tears pricked in her own eyes, and without thinking to do so, she stepped to him and wrapped him in a hug, holding him close, stroking his hair, and letting him cry. His arms wrapped around her in return, and he held her tightly, clearly in desperate need of the embrace, a shoulder to cry on, and Serenity idly wondered if he had anyone to comfort him.

They stood like that for several minutes before Mokuba finally managed to pull himself back together. "Sorry, Serenity," he said sheepishly as he backed out of her arms. "And thanks. I just… God, it sucks."

She wiped the remnants of her tears away with her sleeve and nodded. "Yeah."

Shifting awkwardly, he suggested, "Let's get this taken care of, shall we?"

She once again nodded in agreement, and then they walked to the bedroom. Serenity had never actually been in it, and doing so now felt doubly wrong because of why they were here. Like she had encroached on sacred territory. Mokuba seemed more at ease, foregoing looking through Seto's clothing and heading straight for the colorful collection that made up Joey's side of the closet. He hovered his hand over the shirts, before turning to look at Serenity. "What do you think he'd want to wear?"

"Jeans and a t-shirt," she said simply. "If he has to wear it for all of eternity, jeans and a t-shirt."

Mokuba frowned, stating, "Seto wouldn't like that."

"I don't think he ever liked what Joey wore unless it was a suit," Serenity quipped. "Joey always complained about it." She did an imitation of his voice as she said, "' _Seto told me to wear whatever, but when I show up in jeans an' a nice t-shirt, it's not_ acceptable _for where we're goin'._ ' That was all the time."

Mokuba chuckled. "Yeah, okay. I heard that one, too. From both of them. Maybe we should find a compromise. They usually did."

"Usually," Serenity agreed. She peeked her head into the closet, looking through the options before pulling out a pair of jeans. They were a designer brand, something she was sure Seto had picked out for him. "I think these with a button up shirt."

Mokuba nodded. "Seto always liked him in those jeans. I _may_ have caught him muttering something about Joey's ass once…"

Serenity giggled at the comment as she kept looking through the collection of mostly t-shirts and hoodies. Within a few minutes, Mokuba pulled out a silver button up shirt and held it out for her to examine. It was exactly the kind of thing he would wear for Seto, and she gave Mokuba a thumbs up in agreement. They picked out a pair of dress shoes and a belt for him. Serenity turned to look around the rest of the room, trying to figure out if there was something special she could put with him.

On a dresser on the other side of the room, she saw his Duel Monsters deck, boxed up for safekeeping when not in use. It was perfect, she decided. He could take it with him to the grave. He'd like that. She walked over and carefully picked it up. "This, too," she stated, showing it to Mokuba.

"That's perfect for him." He reached down and snatched up a watch. "I think he should have this, too. Seto gave it to him for their first Christmas together. He always wore it when he went out."

Serenity recognized it, of course, because the wooden face and strap were very distinctive and after receiving it, Joey always wore it. Even if it didn't match his outfit, he wore it, and Seto never complained about it. Satisfied with their selections, they headed out of the room, each carrying several of the things they'd picked. Serenity paused in the doorway to take one last look, picturing Joey waving to her as she left, running up to give her a goodbye hug. She smiled and felt a tear run down her cheek, committing the memory to the recesses of her mind, never to be forgotten.

They made it back to the manor, and Mokuba went to get a duffel bag to put all the items in. The afternoon was long over, the sun having set and ushered in the blackness of night. They all met in the dining room for dinner, and Serenity was glad that the first of several taxing days was over. They were in the middle eating when Seto finally got home. Mokuba quickly excused himself, pushing back from the table and darting after his older brother.

When he returned minutes later, Seto trailed behind him, and one look was all Serenity needed to know how much this was hurting him. Why he had given Mokuba the task of dealing with things. Seto Kaiba simply existed right now. An automated machine following protocols and algorithms after having its heart destroyed. It was a tough way to see Seto. She had grown accustomed to his cocky, self-assured, and somewhat aloof personality. This was much different. He sat down at the head of the table in silence, pulling out his computer to type away at something.

Her husband spoke up first. "Thank you very much for giving us somewhere to stay, Mr. Kaiba."

"Mmm."

"The funeral arrangements are coming along well," Mokuba shared cautiously. "Looks like everything will be ready by tomorrow." The words were met with complete silence, but Mokuba continued anyway. "We picked out an outfit for him. And he's going to be buried here. I don't know if that's what you wanted, but Serenity and I thought it seemed best."

More silence.

Serenity piped up, adding, "We picked out some things to bury him with, too. That watch you gave him that he really loved and his deck. We thought he'd like to have those with him."

Kaiba's eyes snapped up after processing the words for a few seconds. "No," he said vehemently.

"No?" Mokuba asked. "'No' what?"

"Give me his deck," Seto demanded.

"Really?" Mokuba asked, frustrated. "You thought his deck was terrible. Serenity wants Joey to have it. Why can't it go with him?"

"Give. It. To. Me," he said through gritted teeth.

Mokuba looked ready to fight him, bristling in the seat across from her, and Serenity rushed to diffuse the situation. She didn't want to see them argue. Not over something as insignificant as this. It had been her idea to include the deck, but if it was that important to Seto, she was fully willing to let him have it. She was sure Seto wanted to keep it for sentimental reasons and wasn't about to deny him one of the few things he'd requested. "Ahh, it's okay Mokuba. Seto can keep it. Joey would be thrilled to know that Seto wanted to hold onto his deck."

Mokuba still seemed angry, but he held his tongue. The tension was palpable, and Seto said nothing further the rest of the evening, eventually disappearing with his computer in tow. When he'd walked away, Serenity noticed that he hadn't eaten anything and pursed her lips together, worrying for him. As soon as he left, the tension cleared, and they sat together, discussing the remaining plans that needed taken care of. After a while, her husband announced that he was headed to bed. "I'll join you in a couple of minutes," she said, and then turned her attention to a still brooding Mokuba.

"You didn't have to step in there. I can handle him, you know."

"I know. But I don't think he needs handled right now. He needs understanding. Sympathy. I think he just wants to hold onto a piece of Joey. Probably the most important piece. Joey put his heart and soul into that deck, and Seto knows that. I don't mind him keeping the deck. Really, I don't."

Mokuba shook his head, looking tired and suddenly much older than his actual age. "I just wish I knew what he wanted. Don't talk to him about Joey dying, but heaven forbid you bury his deck with him. It's like he's desperately trying not to think about it, but then he wants to keep mementos?"

"He's confused," Serenity said simply. "He knows what happened, but he's not ready to face it yet. Give it time. We all grieve differently."

He considered her words for a moment and then sighed. "You're right. And Seto… well, I don't think he's ever done anything normally. Why would this be any different?"

"Exactly," she said gently.

He smiled, and yet again thanked her, telling her goodnight. She went to bed, her heart still heavy with grief, but glad she could help. Glad she could be useful. Glad she could take some of the enormous weight off of Mokuba's shoulders.

—

At the news, Téa had rushed home, booking the first flight she could get back from New York City because she needed to be with her friends. She needed them as much as she figured they needed her. Joey had been an integral part of their friend circle, and while she hadn't spoken to him much recently, to any of them really, she wanted to be there. Needed to be there to see him one last time.

Domino City felt gloomy when she woke up that morning, having spent the night in her old bedroom at her parents' home. The rain certainly did nothing to improve the mood blanketing the city. She wished it would stop by tonight; they were all meeting at Yugi's to catch up before the viewing the next day. Yugi, Tristan, Duke, and Bakura. _Almost like old times_ , she thought, but without Joey, it wouldn't be the same.

She spent the day with her parents, and their excitement to see her again kept her from focusing too much on how much it hurt and how much she regretted not coming back more frequently to see everyone. It was a solid distraction, going Christmas shopping with them and having lunch and catching up. Upon returning home, she occupied herself with doing her hair and makeup. Soon, she was out the door, snatching up an umbrella on her way, as the rain had not relented.

Following the nostalgic route to Kame Game, she coincidentally met up with Bakura as she crossed the street to Yugi's. "Fancy seeing you here," she quipped.

He sent her a smile. The years hadn't changed him much, his smile still pure and innocent, but like all of them, he'd grown up. "Yeah. I'm glad to see everyone again, but it's such a shame why we're all here."

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat at the comment. "Y-yeah."

He seemed to realize he'd upset her and promptly apologized. "Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up like that."

"It's okay…" she trailed off. "It's not like… we can ignore why we're here."

"Mmm."

They walked the rest of the short distance in silence, and Bakura knocked on the door. Yugi came down to let them in, giving them a weary smile. "Hey guys. It's good to see you."

Then they were led upstairs into the living room, and without even thinking about it, they all went to their seats. The seats they'd always used to sit in. The only difference was Mai sitting in the seat the Joey always used to occupy, and it just reminded her anew how surreal it felt. Here they were, getting together like old times, but Joey wasn't with them, cracking jokes or play-fighting Tristan, and it felt wrong.

Duke had showed up last, bringing several pizzas with him. As they finished their meals and the time spent catching up with each other wound down, the atmosphere in the room grew more somber. "It really sucks, doesn't it?" Tristan asked.

"Yeah," several people agreed at once, Téa included.

"Do they know what happened, yet?" Duke asked cautiously.

Yugi nodded, eyes downcast. "Kaiba had an autopsy done. Mokuba said that he died from a bacterial infection. A very fast spreading one that caused him to experience... Toxic Shock Syndrome, I think it was called."

Téa and Mai gasped. She hadn't realized that anything other than certain feminine hygiene products could cause that, and she highly doubted Joey had any use for those. She was glad Mai asked, "How'd he do that?"

Yugi shook his head and explained. "He cut his finger, and the bacteria got in his bloodstream, according to the doctors who looked at him."

Tristan grunted, and Téa almost thought it was a chuckle. "After all the other shit he lived through, it's almost hard to believe a bacterial infection from a cut did him in."

A murmur of agreement passed among them, and Duke added, "He was struck by lightning. And then he actually was dead for a little after the whole Ra deal. Stubborn idiot. He kept refusing to die."

Tristan shook his head. "I just can't believe it. I mean, just this past weekend, he was over at my place going on about trying to drag Kaiba on some trip. Telling me about how he'd saved up money to give Kaiba a weekend away as a Christmas gift and wanted to know if I thought Kaiba would like it before he booked it. As if I know anything about what Kaiba might like…"

"Kaiba would have liked anything he did," Yugi stated, matter-of-fact. "He pretty much always did whatever Joey wanted, anyway."

"They'd have to argue about it first, though," Mai added teasingly.

Téa felt entirely out of the loop at the shift in conversation topic. She, of course, knew that they were together, but it had never really felt real. A nebulous fact spoken of in group chats but never observed in person. She could only recall their antagonism toward each other in high school, and she had never fully adjusted to the idea that they could get past that. That they had willingly lived together for seven and a half years seemed nothing short of miraculous.

She supposed that some of her disbelief came from hard feelings toward Seto Kaiba. He'd done and said some awful stuff to all of them, and she had spent years struggling to wrap her brain around the fact that Joey, the person who Kaiba had treated the worst out of all of them, had not only forgiven him but had gotten into a relationship with him. It meant that something, somewhere had changed. She had always been happy that Joey was happy, but without seeing it in person, she had a difficult time accepting it as reality.

It was easier to understand as she watched her friends talk about the relationship. Made it more real. The casual way they talked about the two put her mind at ease. None of them seemed to have any doubts or reservations. "You know," she added, "I never once saw them together."

Tristan smiled affectionately as he said, "They were weird."

Bakura spoke up in defense, stating, "That's not fair. They just weren't like other couples. But it worked."

"It worked because they're both stubborn assholes that refused to let it not work," Mai said while inspecting her nails. "Joey told me a lot about them. I just hope Kaiba's doing okay."

"Same," Yugi agreed. "I invited him and Mokuba over, but Mokuba said he's too busy, and Kaiba never replied."

"He could have at least declined," Téa said softly, not wanting to sound as critical as she felt.

"I don't think he's doing so well," Yugi said. "It's hard to lose someone who's so close to you."

The way Yugi said it, paired with the way his eyes gleamed with a faraway expression made her very aware he was talking about Atem. Yugi had lost a part of himself, after all. They had all lost Atem, but no one had been closer to him than Yugi. "I hope Joey's dueling him in the afterlife," Tristan stated, having also easily figured out who Yugi was referring to.

"I'm sure he is," Bakura contributed positively.

Téa smiled, thankful for the pleasant thought. Joey might not be here anymore, but he could be with the spirit of the other friend they'd lost. She needed that reassurance. The next few days would be emotionally challenging, and she was glad that she could go into them clinging to a small bit of hope and not just despair over the loss and regret over not spending more time with Joey.

—

Kaiba awoke the morning of the visitation with a headache pulsing behind his eyes. It hadn't been more than three hours since he fell asleep in his home office, but he ended up dreaming, though 'dream' was a relative term. It felt like more like a nightmare.

Like most nights, he dreamt of Joey. Some dreams being more innocuous than others. This time, he got a chance to hold Joey's hand, to feel the warmth of skin against skin. He squeezed Joey's hand, feeling the rough patches of skin over his knuckles, tracing any scars with his thumbnail. Every so often he looked up, catching Joey talking about something he couldn't hear, though it was clear when he was laughing. His eyes closed, and his smile lit up his whole face.

Kaiba forced himself awake—he hadn't wanted to sleep in the first place. He hated being tricked by Joey's closeness only to open his eyes and find out that the feelings and recollections weren't real. He was left with something less tangible, warm skin on his hand or a flutter in his heart that he had to swallow. Or a feeling that he had somehow woken up in the wrong reality, with his dreams showing him where he was supposed to be.

On the corner of his desk, the ring-box sat on top of Joey's deck. A morbid little touchstone to the real world. He reached out, carefully shifting the box so it sat at the same diagonal angle as the cards, then flattened any of the top cards that moved so the sides were smooth and even.

He sighed, heaving himself up from the desk and trudging to the master bedroom to get ready. There had to be some way to rid himself of the dreams; some drug, some kind of hypnosis. Until then, he just wouldn't sleep. It would have been futile to try. The dreams always shuddered him awake, leaving him more tired than when he drifted off in the first place.

Kaiba showered, scrubbing the remnants of tiredness from his face. The people at the wake, especially the nerd herd, would not see him tired or shaken by this. He wasn't. He refused to be. Instead, they would see his grief in the shades of black he wore, amalgamating with everyone else in the sea of grief.

His grief wasn't the same as theirs. They hadn't worn black every day since Joey had left. They weren't thumbing through suit jackets or muted collared shirts, looking for a clean combination to wear. They had bought their suits and their dresses special for the occasion. After, their mourning clothes would hang in the corners of their closets until needed again, if ever. This was just a moment in time for them. For Kaiba, this wasn't mourning or grief, but a new way of life where Joey passed by in fragments, constantly reminding him and making him wonder if Joey ever existed.

Kaiba stared at the suit jacket and tie hanging from the corner of a full-body mirror, scorning the combination as he buttoned up his shirt. It wasn't as if black on black was mismatched, but he couldn't quite place why he disliked it.

A soft knock drew him from the thought. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you were up," Mokuba commented as he crept in. He closed the door behind him.

"I've been up for a while."

"So you're almost ready then?" Mokuba's asked. He drifted into the corner of the mirror, looking sharp and fresh-faced, ready to take on the day. He hid the heaviness in his brow well. "Or as ready as you can be."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, I know." Mokuba was behind him instantly, handing off a pair of silver cufflinks. "Everything should run pretty smoothly today. At least, I think it should since I called the funeral home so much. I probably drove them nuts, but I don't really care. There were so many details to go over, and I didn't want any of them wrong. I know you wouldn't want that. Not for Joey."

"Mm."

"I was thinking of heading out with Yugi and the others afterwards," Mokuba said, walking over to the closet and rifling through it. "You can join me if you want. They invited both of us."

"No, thank you."

"Didn't figure. But I wanted to offer," Mokuba said, yanking a red tie off the rack and hanging it over the black on the corner of the mirror.

Once Kaiba finished cinching the cufflinks, he reached up for the tie. His hand stalled. "What are you doing, Mokuba?"

"Nothing."

The tie was displayed, pinched between Kaiba's thumb and forefinger like it was offensive. "Then what is this?"

"A...tie?"

"I am aware of that," he said, voice low and measured. "Why did you put it here?"

Mokuba shrugged, maintaining eye contact in the mirror. "I told Roland to pick it up from your place when he went to get your clothes. I thought...maybe you would want to wear it to the wake. For what it's worth, I planned on doing it, too." Kaiba said nothing, bringing the tie close to his breast. "Besides, it adds a little color. Joey was always pretty colorful so I figured for his funeral we should—"

"Don't."

Mokuba blinked. "Don't what?"

"Just...don't."

Shaking his head, Mokuba bridged the gap between them. "I'm not trying to make this difficult, Seto. I just thought…"

"You thought if I wore his tie it would be symbolic," Kaiba spat. He clenched the tie in his fist, dropping his arm to his side. "No. Absolutely not. People are unbearable enough regarding... _this_. I'm not going to give them anything else to say."

Mokuba scoffed. "Really, Seto? In what universe do you care about what other people think of what you're doing?" Kaiba was silent, staring absently at his reflection, feeling detached from it as his fingers uncurled from the tie. It pooled at his feet, and he reached for the black tie instead, throwing it over his shoulders. "Explain to me why something stupid like that matters."

"Mokuba…"

"I'm serious. Explain it to me. Help me understand why the tie matters. Or why you don't want his deck buried. Or why you'd rather have him buried than cremated," Mokuba said, his voice heightening with each passing accusation. It didn't slip by Kaiba, though he was more focused on knotting the black tie together, almost finishing before ripping it apart and starting again. "I feel like I'm going through all of this blind, and all I'm asking is for you to talk to me."

"No."

"No? Why not?"

"Because there's nothing to talk about."

"Oh, I'm sure," Mokuba murmured. Kaiba unraveled the tie for a third time, starting again. "'Nothing to talk about'? You mean you're pretending that nothing happened?"

"Stop..."

"You told me he was everything, Seto. But right now it really feels like you couldn't care less about him. You won't even try and do _something_ , anything, for the person who was your 'everything'."

Kaiba froze, and his eyes thinned, glowering at Mokuba through the mirror. "Don't you dare make assumptions."

"All I'm asking is for you to wear a tie," Mokuba said, ignoring his brother's icy warning. "I've done everything else; the least you can do is indulge me."

"That is enough, Mokuba!" Kaiba snapped, whipping around. "I don't have to do anything you ask, much less wear my heart on my sleeve just because you think I should! My affection isn't anyone's business but mine, and if this is something you think Joseph would ask then you…" Kaiba wobbled, stepping backwards to regain his composure, shaken from his own force. His trembling hands clenched so tight that his nails dug into his palms. "I'm done talking about this. To you or to anyone else. Since this happened, that's the only thing anyone—you included!—has spoken to me about. I'm fine, and that is the end of it. And once today if over with, you will _not_ ask me again. Do you understand me?"

Surprise colored Mokuba's face, and he shifted his weight side-to-side. "Seto, I…"

"Do you understand?"

Time stalled. Impatience racked Kaiba, staring his little brother down. The answer was one word, that's all he demanded, and yet Mokuba struggled to look him in the eye, more interested in the tie laying between them in a No Man's Land.

Mokuba gave in first, letting out a tough breath. He spared Kaiba a single glance while picking up the tie. "No, I don't understand. That's my point. But whatever, I'm not getting into this over a tie. Not today. You do what you want, Seto. You always have. I just...I can't even begin to think how hard this is for you knowing how much it sucks for me. It feels like there's this...this hole in my chest right now, and I don't know what to do with it—it just hurts, okay?" he said, clenching his teeth to hold back the tears. "There. I'm done talking about this now. I promise I won't talk to you about it anymore."

A few hiccups escaped Mokuba. He turned away, wiping away any tears with his knuckles. He made it as far the door before realising the tie was still in his hand. He draped it over the doorknob.

"I'll be downstairs when your ready."

Kaiba nodded.

It didn't take him long to finish up. Getting dressed was mechanical. Cinching the black tie, buttoning the waistcoat. But the red tie hung precariously on the doorknob, always in the corner of his vision. It acted as a gatekeeper when he went to the door, forcing him to make a decision. He had to give it to Mokuba—he was clever. He forced Kaiba to reconsider. Begged him silently to wear it, even if Kaiba didn't want to. Much in the way that Kaiba often forced Joey to wear clothes he didn't want, leaving suit jackets or ties in places where Joey would run into them, lest he forget Kaiba's boorish demands.

 _Ya just gonna let it sit there?_ He heard, so faint that he wasn't sure if it was real or in his mind.

"I should."

_After that?_

"After what? Mokuba asks for things all the time." Kaiba looked off, trying to find the source of the voice while knowing, deep down, that he was manufacturing it. An argument against himself, but in Joey's voice.

 _Yeah, but ya don't gotta be such an ass to him about it_ , the voice said. _It's a tie, Seto. Wear the damn tie._

It was as simple as that. Though he scowled, he took the tie from the doorknob. As he walked back to his study to check that he didn't forget anything, he unfurled the black tie and began to knot the red one. He tucking it neatly into the waistcoat and flattening his collar, scanning over his desk for anything he needed. The black tie was discarded.

Again, he flattened the edge of the cards, palming the ring-box. He almost took it. Almost. But his hand slipped down, and he stole up the deck instead, pulling it out so fast that the box landed flat on his desk.

"The deck is enough," he said aloud, assuaging the voice before it spoke. "You're not arguing with me on this one. Not that you could. You don't know what this is."

Admitting the truth burned. Quickly, Kaiba pivoted away, slipping the cards inside his jacket pocket as he strode out.

Mokuba waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, talking quietly to Roland. He was indifferent to his brother's approach, glancing at him as they walked to the car. It wasn't until they sat across one another that Mokuba noticed the tie, his eyes widening and head tilting to the side. Half a second later, a tiny smile appeared, and he nodded.

Approval, Kaiba thought. Not that he needed it, but at least he would spare Mokuba tears for a few more minutes. It didn't matter if he approved, anyways. Whether or not he wore the tie suddenly became less important compared to the feeling of the cards in his jacket pocket, gently thumping against his side.


	3. Depression

Yugi looked down at his best friend, lying in the casket at the front of the church, hands clasped at his waist. It was eerie to see. Hardly comprehensible despite knowing that Joey was dead. He felt tears building in his eyes, and then Téa put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It distracted him enough, and then they were in front of Kaiba, Mokuba, and Serenity.

"I'm sorry for your loss, guys."

"Thanks, Yugi," Mokuba replied.

Serenity gave him a hug. "Thanks for coming, Yugi," she said. "I know how much you two meant to each other."

"Yeah," he agreed, returning her hug. She let go, and as she hugged Téa, he stepped in front of Kaiba.

And Kaiba simply stared back at him. No acknowledgement that he even knew Yugi was there. "How are you holding up, Kaiba?" he asked carefully.

His eyes focused momentarily, long enough for recognition to light in them, before glazing back over. "Fine."

Yugi couldn't say that he knew Seto Kaiba way better than anyone else, but he knew him well enough to know his response wasn't right. They were all hurting right now, but Kaiba was… different.

They'd stared each other down as opponents so many times over the years that he had gained a better understanding of his one-time rival. The time he'd spent around him since then, as well, had only aided in his ability to understand where Kaiba was coming from. Despite the years of history, of seeing Kaiba in many different sorts of moods, he'd never seen an expression like the one that resided on Kaiba's face now. Blank. Emotionless. Yugi didn't think Kaiba had slept more than a few hours since finding out. Mokuba didn't look much better, but there was something about Kaiba that Yugi found unnerving. It reminded him of when they'd first met, when Kaiba had been intent on killing him, but it wasn't quite the same either.

Fine, he'd said.

Kaiba wasn't fine.

Joey's death had ripped out everyone's hearts, his included, and shredded them to pieces. It had been unexpected. When Mokuba called and told him, he'd felt numb. Like another piece of himself had been torn away. He thought he'd have gotten used to it by now, but the finality of death wasn't something he would ever truly get used to.

He was still struggling to come to terms with it, unable to think about what life would be like without his best friend. Regardless, he knew that someday, he'd accept what had happened. It would take a while, but Joey wouldn't want him to cling to the past forever. He'd have said something like: "Smile for me, Yug! Ain't no need to cry over me." Positive. Upbeat. Always looking toward the future and hoping for better times. Yugi vowed, even as he felt tears trickle down his cheeks, that he'd always stay positive for Joey's sake. Strong for Atem. Wise for Grandpa. Positive for Joey.

However, his own resolve wouldn't extend to those around him, but he was aware that eventually, they'd all make some kind of peace with the situation. Eventually, despite desperately missing the blonde, they'd all find a way to live again.

Well... maybe not all, he realized as he glanced at Kaiba again.

Something deep inside of him told him that Kaiba would never be the same. His relationship with Joey had fundamentally changed him in some subtle way that Yugi couldn't really place. Kaiba had become... softer, though certainly he was no pushover or anything of the sort. When it came to work or competitions, Kaiba still commanded respect and many rightly feared him, but clearly age, and perhaps the relationship, had tempered some of his more obnoxious tendencies. Yugi hesitated to call the change happiness, but something in his demeanor toward all of them had softened. He was far easier to get along with.

Thinking on it, Yugi had always found the relationship somewhat strange. Really, everyone did. Neither of them bothered to call the other by any sort of label. They weren't boyfriends, partners, or lovers. Joey occasionally called him something along the lines of 'my lovable bastard' and rarer still, he'd slip in 'Seto', but otherwise, it was just 'Kaiba'. Same as ever. Kaiba sometimes still called him 'Wheeler' or 'Mutt', usually opting for 'Joseph.'

Joey would constantly complain about things that Kaiba did, whether it was work too late, nitpick over his outfits, or seemingly disappear off the planet for several days at a time. On the surface, it seemed as though neither really cared much for the other. It was only during the quiet moments, ones Yugi had glimpsed only on rare occasions when they thought no one was watching, that their chemistry had been plainly evident. How they'd have these conversations without ever opening their mouths, gentle touches, quick shifts of facial expressions, and subtle movements of their bodies saying far more than words ever could.

He'd been slightly jealous at first, observing how in tune with each other they'd become during the time he'd been away for school and feeling that his best friend had been stolen from him. He felt like he'd been replaced. He'd quickly buried the feeling upon realizing just how happy the relationship made Joey. Joey's numerous complaints were backhanded compliments, things his pride wouldn't let him say outright. Code for 'he works hard', 'he loves me despite my flaws', 'he's devoted'. They bickered with each other whenever they were together, and Joey's eyes would sparkle with delight. Kaiba's would, too. There was deep affection in the verbal sparring. Many of the words might have been the same as they had used in high school, but now the tone was trusting. Loving. Interactions that had a natural give and take and satisfied both of them.

Now suddenly those interactions would be no more. A hole existed where a person once stood, one that was impossible to fill. It always hurt. He knew it all too well from experience. Even years later, he'd see something or recall something and be reminded. Sometimes he smiled at the memory and sometimes he fought back tears, but the fact remained that those who died continued to live in the hearts of those who'd loved them. Simple things served as reminders. Kaiba, smart as he was, likely remembered most details of every conversation and interaction he'd ever had with Joey. The number of things that would serve as reminders would be vast. Small details would remind him and bring with them the stinging pain of loss.

His own heart was heavy as he found a seat in the church. He hated that he was mourning his best friend's death, but he felt for Kaiba. Kaiba had loved Joey. This loss visibly affected him, but the extent to which it did was something Yugi couldn't determine. He glanced up at the Kaiba brothers and Serenity, watching as they shook the hands of the endless stream of visitors they were receiving. Serenity and Mokuba both expressed their thanks for the condolences. But Kaiba vacantly nodded in agreement, barely aware of where he was or what was even happening.

Yugi didn't know if that was a choice or if he was so far gone into his own head that he just didn't realize it.

But one thing was spectacularly clear. Kaiba definitely wasn't 'fine'. He was only just barely pretending to be fine.

—

Hope Foster had long since dropped the Wheeler from her name. The divorce had been many years ago, and she had no connection to her ex-husband's name other than the fact it was still attached to her children. She stood at the front of the church in awe at the sight before her. Multiple rows of wreaths and bouquets decorated the church, creating a wall of flowers in the front. The entire building was full, packed with people who were here to pay their respects to her son.

She hadn't realized before this moment just how well loved he was. The church was packed. There were the flowers, of course, all sent from people who knew him or his...partner. Whatever the young Mr. Seto Kaiba was to him; he'd never given her a straight answer. She'd seen all the reporters outside on her way in. She'd even been asked a few questions, but she'd declined to answer. She didn't want their attention. Her only concern was sending her son off the way she should.

Most of these people didn't know her nor did she know most of them, a testament to how far removed from her son's life she had become over the years. She really had no one to blame but herself, but it wasn't like she could have taken them both with her when she left. Hope, as a single mom, would simply not have been able to provide for both of them. Well after the fact, she learned that her ex hadn't provided much more for Joey than she could have. He'd turned into a useless drunk, leaving her poor son to struggle on his own. At least if she'd kept him with her, even if it had been a struggle, they'd have been together, and he'd have still felt loved. He would have still been with his sister. He'd have stayed out of the gangs on the streets of Domino. Most important for her, though, was that Joey wouldn't have resented her so much.

She constantly regretted her choice to leave him with his father all those years ago. Regretted it on a daily basis when Serenity would give her a call to check in and afterwards when she'd look and see that she hadn't heard from Joey in months. Hope would think about reaching out to him then, calling to see how he was doing and if there was anything new going on, but she wouldn't because every time she did, he seemed annoyed to be talking to her or too busy. He didn't want to spend time talking to her. Her choice to leave him behind had irreparably fractured their relationship, and Hope regretted it every day.

That regret rolled through her in waves as she sat down in the second row, the sound of people talking in the background fading to a muted cacophony, indistinct and garbled. Fishing a tissue out of her purse, she leaned forward and cried, wiping the tears away as they fell. She'd apologized but never truly received his forgiveness for her mistake, and now she never would. Now she could never tell him how much she loved him or how much she wanted to talk to him every day. She wished that she had tried harder to fix things and that she'd had the chance to be more involved in his life.

She bit her lower lip, taking deep breaths to steady herself. Serenity sat down beside her and gave her a one-armed hug. "Hey, Mom," she said softly.

"Hi, baby. How's it going?"

"Good, I guess. Everything is going smoothly. Mokuba did a great job with the arrangements. I mean, I helped some, but he did most of the work. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Mmm."

"It was very generous of them to pay for everything," Serenity shared quietly.

And Hope agreed. She certainly couldn't have paid for much on her own. Even though it hurt to have been excluded from all the planning, to be sitting down while her daughter and the Kaiba brothers received those in attendance, she understood. The Kaiba brothers were footing the bill, and that made the decisions theirs to make. Plus, Seto Kaiba had never liked her much. Tolerated her, certainly, but it was clear that he had no interest in knowing anything other than Joey's side of the story. Seto Kaiba was always cordial, of course, but Hope, like most people who found themselves in front of those calculating blue eyes and stern expression, instinctively knew not to cross him.

And yet Joey had stood beside Kaiba confidently, expressing his opinions without worries. Butting heads with him whenever the need arose, and he always did it without fear. Trust and dedication comprised the bulk of their relationship with a healthy dose of routine. Like most parents, Hope had envisioned a future for her son, and while she would never have anticipated someone like Kaiba being who her son dated, she had been happy for him. A little surprised that he was gay, _bi_ she remembered him correcting, but happy. Happy that he'd found someone to love despite how unconventional their unlabeled relationship was. Proud of him for doing well for himself on his own. Because she knew he'd done everything on his own, supporting himself, getting some help from his friends along the way. Even if she hadn't been included in any of it, she was still proud of his success.

She stood up then, resolving to see her son, her baby boy, just one more time. She walked to the casket and peered in, heart lurching at the sight. His skin pale, drained of all color, and eyes closed, looking at peace. She wanted to reach out and touch his hair, cup his cheeks. She wanted him to come back to life, gaze at her with his soft brown eyes. In that moment, she wished that they could trade places. She'd gladly die if he could be brought back. She'd brought him into the world once, and if she could trade her life to do it again now, she would. Her fragile heart shattered as she stared down at him, grief and regret tumultuously twisting in her chest, and she cried once more. Despite the unmended rift in their relationship, the distance that had been there before, she felt the finality of things now. No more chances to fix things. No more seeing him sometimes. He was gone. Forever. And it broke her heart.

—

Tristan sat at the back of the church, leaned forward with his hands clasped together in front of his mouth and eyes closed in a pose most would have taken for praying except for the scowl on his face and the way he tensed his hands. The veins in his head throbbed in irritation, and if he heard one more reporter outside harass anyone for information on the funeral, he was going to march out there and start throwing punches. None of them, not one of them, had any right to know _anything_ about his best friend. His partner in crime. Despite his relationship with Kaiba, being a professional duelist, and the celebrity both of those things brought, they never did. And they certainly didn't have the right at his funeral, either.

He was startled from his thoughts by a hand squeezing his shoulder. He opened his eyes and glanced over at Mai as she sat down beside him. "How are you doing, hun?" she asked.

He shrugged. "About as well as can be expected, I guess."

"Mmm." Mai looked put together, dressed conservatively in a color so dark he couldn't quite determine which it was, but her expression, the sadness in her eyes, betrayed exactly how Joey's death affected her.

"I'm going to miss that idiot," Tristan finally said.

"Me, too," she agreed with a sad smile.

Silence settled between them, neither feeling like talking. He heard the media vultures outside again, and he clenched his fist, nostrils flaring. Mai's hand settled over top of his, squeezing it reassuringly, and when he looked over at her in question, she shook her head, telling him not to. He sighed and forced himself to relax as she pulled her hand away. He didn't need to make a scene, he knew. He wouldn't draw attention away from Joey or distract anyone from the reason they were here. "Thanks," he breathed to her.

"You should probably move somewhere where you can't hear them," she suggested. "Come sit with us."

He nodded, and she stood to do just that, but he didn't move. He wanted to be alone. Yugi was too positive about things, Téa was too sad, almost to the point where he thought it felt forced, but he knew it wasn't. Duke and Bakura had both sort of withdrawn into themselves in slightly different ways, and he, more than anything, just wanted to punch something. Far better to direct that anger at the morons outside than his friends. They didn't deserve that from him simply because he didn't like how they were handling their grief.

Left alone once more, he caught the sounds of questions being asked outside. They were louder than before, more insistent, and he finally stood up to go do something about it. What? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't sit and listen to them talk shit. He headed toward the door, and as he saw the Kaiba brothers walk through, he realized why it had gotten so noisy. Mokuba walked with his head bowed and shoulders slumped forward, looking much smaller than Kaiba, even though Tristan was pretty sure Mokuba was the taller of the two now. Kaiba seemed as he always did, poised and walking briskly, ignoring everything around him. Their faithful bodyguard trailed behind them.

Anger flared within him seeing Kaiba so seemingly unaffected, but he bit back the words he wanted to say, forcing himself back down into his seat. He wouldn't fight Kaiba. That had always been Joey's thing, anyway. Tristan kept his eyes fixed on him though, the brothers walking to the front and sitting down, and if he hadn't been paying attention, he'd have missed the way Kaiba leaned against Mokuba for support. The way his silhouette slumped against the seat, defeated. The way Mokuba reached up to squeeze his brother's shoulder. Any anger he'd felt toward Kaiba evaporated in that moment. Kaiba wore a mask to look strong; he always did, and this was no exception. But the way he leaned on Mokuba told Tristan exactly how much this affected him.

The brief moment of weakness he'd witnessed disappeared in a heartbeat, so quick he briefly wondered if he'd imagined it, but he knew he hadn't. Kaiba was hurting, just like the rest of them. Probably even more so, he realized, because they'd lived together. They were...what had Joey called it?… _cohabitatin'_ , and while Joey had never told him much about his relationship with Kaiba, actively choosing to spare his friend the explicit details, Tristan could tell how much they'd meant to each other.

Becoming friends with Yugi had turned a hot-headed teenager with a penchant for getting into unwarranted fist fights into someone willing to do anything to protect his friends. Yugi had given Joey, and himself too, a purpose. However, becoming friends with Yugi had put them at odds with Seto Kaiba very early on. Kaiba was a prick then and still could be at times, and for so long, Joey had seen Kaiba as a rival, an obstacle to overcome. With all the time Kaiba spent putting him down, deriding him as inferior, Joey tried his damnedest to prove to Kaiba that he wasn't any of the things he was called. Looking back, it all seemed like a childish dick-measuring contest.

When had things changed though? After high school, for sure. Everyone had ventured out on their own, leaving Joey behind. Tristan had stayed in the area, but he was too busy with school to really spend any time with Joey, and Joey had been too busy working. They'd hang out periodically, Joey coming over and both of them drinking far too much. He'd found out on one of those drunk nights, with Joey sprawled out on the couch and Tristan sitting on the floor by his feet. Joey had randomly paused the game they were playing to quickly type out a text message. He had glanced up to ask Joey why he'd paused the game, and he saw the mark just under his friend's jaw, an obvious hickey that he hadn't noticed earlier due to its placement and the unruly blonde hair that covered it.

"Looks like someone's getting lucky. Had to stop and text your girlfriend, huh?"

Joey had blinked at him, confused at first, and then he'd sat up quickly, hand shooting to his neck to cover the mark. He'd stammered out an excuse for himself, skin flushed pink. "Dude, it's alright. You don't have to explain anything to me."

"I… yeah, Tris, I actually do," he'd started, averting his gaze and dropping his hand into his lap. "See, it ain't from a girl."

He'd stared Joey down hard, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but Joey was nothing but sincere. "Dude, that's kind of weird. Like… we've slept together naked."

"I know. And that's why I've been worried 'bout tellin' ya 'cause I didn't wanna freak ya out. I ain't got the hots for ya, man. I'm never gonna. Don't worry about that."

He had felt a bit awkward, a bit uncomfortable, suddenly learning that Joey was into guys. But Joey had said not him, not ever, and logically, if it were ever going to be him, something would have come up before now. Besides, there was clearly already someone else. Curious about that someone else, he asked, "So do you have a boyfriend or something?"

A frown. "Somethin' like that, I guess."

"A… fuck buddy, then?" Tristan had asked.

"I mean, it ain't like we ain't fucked, but it's more than jus' that. I dunno, man. It's weird."

"Weird how? Do I know the guy?"

Joey had gone completely red at the question, nodding once and fidgeting.

"You gonna tell me, or do I gotta steal your phone to dig it out of your contacts?"

"I uh… I told ya it was weird, right? Ya prolly aren't gonna believe it. Hell, I can't even believe it sometimes." His phone buzzed in his lap, signalling the arrival of another message, and Tristan shot up off the floor to see who. Joey shielded his phone screen, being far too secretive about it. The highly suspicious behavior only piqued his curiosity more.

"Just tell me, man," Tristan sighed, frustrated after unsuccessfully attempting to get a glance of the screen.

Joey had chewed the inside of his cheek nervously. Apparently, he found spilling who it was even more embarrassing than sharing the fact that he liked guys. But with Joey's reluctance to answer and the fact that he supposedly knew the guy, he was starting to have a pretty good idea who it could be, but he was going to make Joey tell him. A long sigh, and Joey ran his hand through his messy blonde hair. "It's Kaiba, okay? I know it's weird. Everybody else thought it was, too, so ya ain't gotta say anythin' about that. I dunno. It just kinda happened. No one to hang out wit' since everyone was so busy. Ran into Mokuba one day, he started invited me over regularly, and I kinda started seein' Kaiba all the time. It was the usual at first, ya know? Name callin' and pickin' at each other, and then it just slowly became somethin' else completely."

He did think it was strange, but he chose not to comment. Joey's rushed explanation seemed to be a defense mechanism, and he didn't want to make him feel even more uncomfortable. Tristan knew he'd eventually get used to the idea, even if it might take him a while, but he wouldn't ostracize his friend for it. Joey was his brother, but that did remind him that he did feel a bit miffed about part of Joey's admission. He crossed his arms and frowned, and instead of saying anything related to his surprise, he complained, "I can't believe you didn't tell me first. Jerk."

With surprise evident on his face, Joey stuttered, "I uh… Umm. Yeah." Then he had laughed, clearly relieved, and Tristan had laughed with him, happy for his friend even if he didn't really get it.

He got it now, though. He'd seen and heard enough over the years. Joey would drag Kaiba out with them sometimes. The CEO never really seemed comfortable and always looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, but he came for Joey's sake. He came because Joey wanted him there, and that fact spoke far more than words ever could for how much Joey meant to him.

KaibaCorp came first. Always. However, Tristan knew that Joey Wheeler came before Seto Kaiba. Just like Mokuba Kaiba came before Seto Kaiba. Kaiba placed Mokuba and Joey above himself, and while he would _never_ have admitted it aloud to anyone, his actions clearly showed how much he loved Joey. Deeply. Far more than any of them, probably even Kaiba himself, realized.

His thoughts had wandered away during the service, and afterwards, he sat in silence, trying not to let himself cry. He watched Kaiba stand up and quickly slide past Mokuba and Roland. A quick gesture from Mokuba, and the bodyguard was trailing after him. Tristan watched him walk by, but he didn't seem aware of anything. His eyes were glossed over and his expression vacant, though the scowl on his face would keep the average person from approaching him. Tristan also decided to keep his distance. Seeing the expression on Kaiba's face, he knew. Seto Kaiba was a broken man, a shell of his former self.

 _Joey, did you know how much you really mean to Kaiba?_ he mused, almost a prayer. _He's really hurting without you, man. Putting on a strong face, and pretending he isn't. But like... you brought him around enough. I can see through him better. He loves you, man. I guess I'll try to watch out for him some. You always said he sucked at doing normal people things. So I'll try, okay? For you._

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the clamor start back up outside. The sight of Kaiba clearly rejuvenating the reporters, and Tristan couldn't contain his urge to fight any longer. Kaiba didn't need any of their shit right now. With both hands balled into fists, he marched outside. A reporter pressed close to Kaiba. Roland blocked his path, and Tristan stepped between them, grabbing the man by the shirt, dragging him close, before throwing him on the ground. "Can't you fuckers leave us alone? Just let us mourn in peace."

All of their attention was now focused on him, snapping pictures, asking him questions, and he simply gave them the middle finger, skulking back into the church.

Téa shook her head at him as he walked toward them, making him feel guilty for his actions. Despite the guilt, he still felt somewhat glad because it felt like he was already watching out for Kaiba's wellbeing. If nothing else, he had at least given Kaiba a reprieve from their attention, and Kaiba looked like he could take any reprieve he could get.

—

Interring Joey's body had been a more private affair. Only close friends and family were in attendance, following a discreet procession route to the Kaiba estate. A few scummy reporters had managed to track them there, staved off by the gate but still clamoring to get through. Mokuba tried to ignore them, though he looked to Tristan, wordlessly nodding 'go ahead' to the furious look in the brunet's eyes. He fully supported whatever else Tristan might do. Everyone else was thinking it.

Slowly, everyone said their final peace. They shared everything. Stories and jokes. Memories and prayers. Goodbyes. It put Mokuba through a rollercoaster of emotions, unsure if he was allowed to laugh. Everyone else was. Except for Seto, of course. He remained neutral, though occasionally his mouth would twitch. Mokuba seriously doubted that he knew where he was, or if he heard what the others were saying.

Near the end, Mokuba's stepped up beside Seto and touched his wrist. Nothing. Cloudiness marred Seto's eyes as they flicked back and forth over the casket. Mokuba squeezed his wrist. "You want to say anything?"

"No."

Mokuba nodded. "Okay."

Seto pulled his wrist away, folding his hands at his waist. Reluctantly, Mokuba made a motion to allow the staff to lower the casket into the ground. Seto was gone before it started, meandering into the manor with Roland in tow. Tears welled in Mokuba's eyes again, and he didn't have the energy to fight them anymore. He swallowed the hiccups and looked across to Serenity as she buried her face into her husband's shoulder. Grace softly cooed.

Everyone dispersed quickly, forming little groups on the back lawn and talking while Mokuba saw the rest of the burial through. Not that he was 100% with it, but he was aware enough to make it to the end.

He was relieved when he was free to go, happily following his friends to an Italian restaurant near the manor. He felt like he could breathe again; the hardest part was over with. Now, he had to find a new normal. However long that might take.

They were sat in a private corner of the restaurant, away from wandering eyes. Quiet conversation had started between everyone, with Tristan riling up the crowd with old memories as Mokuba entered, quietly ordering a drink to settle his nerves.

"...and I'm like, 'Joey, I don't know about this,' and he's all, 'Yeah, I know what I'm doin' man. Just trust me'," Tristan imitated.

Mokuba chuckled. "Famous last words."

"Right? Anyways, so what do I do? Go ahead like an idiot because I trust him. And I, to this day, have no idea how the hell he didn't puke."

Mokuba didn't even want to know where that story started, but everyone else at the table got a good laugh.

It simmered into quieter conversation. A few different stories were thrown around. Most were lead by Serenity and Tristan, with Duke piping in every so often. Plenty of eye rolls and heavy sighs were shared. Everyone seemed to have the awkward feeling of not knowing what to say, but still saying it anyways, even if most of it was unflattering. It was honest. Something they would have said to Joey's face.

Yugi seemed to have the least to say. He was content to hang onto a glass of water, nodding his head and laughing every so often.

"It's nice to see everyone together again," Yugi said.

"Yeah…" Mokuba glanced around at them all as they burst into laughter. His eyes landed on the empty seat beside him. A spot probably intended for Seto, but he wondered if maybe Joey would have sat there, also.

"Is Kaiba coming?"

"Probably not. I asked him, but he was preoccupied with other things. He—"

Yugi shook his head. "You don't have to explain. I get it."

Mokuba believed him. If there was anyone who had any idea of the closeness of Seto's loss, it was Yugi. He didn't talk too much about the Pharaoh, not even after all this time. But when he did, he spared no details or feelings, speaking with vigor and passion despite the distance in his eyes. It was warm. Like he suddenly got to be with the Pharaoh again.

It made Mokuba curious about how Seto might become. If he could, one day, look back with clarity and happiness, maybe even fondness. He didn't expect Seto to ever talk about it explicitly. But even if it happened in passing, some brief mention of a time in between the nine years that Mokuba could smile about, that would be okay. At least then he would know that Seto had reached some level of acceptance.

The waiter came around, taking the group's orders.

A quiet din settled after the waiter left, leaving Mokuba squirming in the uncomfortable silence. How many more uncomfortable silences were waiting for him at home? He didn't want that with friends. Not when they could be observing precious memories. But the words caught in his throat.

"I'm surprised we're eating here," Duke said.

Mokuba poked his head up. "Oh? Why's that?"

"Pretty sure Joey doesn't like this place much."

"'Much'?" Mai asked. "It was a little more than that. Isn't this 'That Stupid Italian Place' I've heard so much about?"

Mokuba glanced around the floor. The restaurant had a faux rustic feel, complete with dim lighting and vines crawling around pillars painted with cracks. Old paintings of an Italian countryside hung on the walls. "Maybe? I dunno, I just picked a place close to home. Figured everyone might want a drink," he said, raising his glass when it was delivered.

"Oh! This is that place, isn't it?" Téa said. "I remember him making fun of this place in the group chat."

"No, no, that's gotta be the place across town," Tristan said. "We never really came over here. There's that uppity place not too far from the game shop."

Mokuba was racking his brain trying to figure out where they were talking about. More than anything, though, panic struck him. Had he really picked a place that Joey didn't like? There wasn't any place that he or Seto openly avoided, though he knew out of the two that Seto was the picky eater. That he had managed to choose the one place that Joey might not have liked seemed astronomically high.

"It's this one," Yugi said. Mokuba's ears grew red, and he'd suddenly become very interested in the bubbles in his drink. "But I don't think he dislikes it so much. It's more that he doesn't tend to talk about it…"

"Why not?" Serenity asked.

Yugi shrugged meekly. He looked to Mokuba, as if the younger Kaiba could elaborate. "Something about a... date?"

And it clicked. A wide smile began to cross Mokuba's face while he unsuccessfully tried to button down a laugh. "Jeez, I almost forgot. I just picked this place because it was close. But yeah, this is That Stupid Italian Place." He glanced around at everyone, who were in varying states of confusion and curiosity. "It wasn't really a date though."

"How's that?" Mai asked.

"Easy. They had to be dating first," Mokuba said. He let everyone murmur to one another, asking him 'why' and 'how' while he took a sip of his drink. "It wasn't a date, and it was, I guess. How should I put this…?"

"Who cares if it was a date?" Tristan interrupted. "The fact of the matter is that this is the place those two idiots got kicked out of."

"No way!" Téa exclaimed.

"Oh yeah."

"How did they do that?"

Tristan smirked. "Well, for starters, they were arguing the entire time. Joey said he couldn't stand Kaiba. Said that he was being real uptight about the food, and he was getting pissed off because he had picked out this place thinking it would be up Kaiba's alley. Anyways, so it escalated, because they couldn't leave it for more than two seconds. Eventually, staff apparently got fed up with them and booted them from the place since they were disturbing everyone else."

Bakura nodded. "Ah, yes. Joey mentioned that once or twice. Though I distinctly recall him saying something about throwing wine on Kaiba."

"No, not wine," Duke said. "He ended up flicking him with, like, a meatball or something. Said if he was going to complain about everything, he might as well have given Kaiba a reason to complain."

Serenity giggled to herself, glancing at Mokuba off and on while she fed Grace. Mokuba pinched back his smile, so wide and tight that it was hurting his cheeks.

"I thought Kaiba threw something at him first," Mai speculated, her finger tapping against her cheek. "He said he was hoping the night would go well, and that he was dealing with him as best he could, but then Kaiba threw, like, a napkin at him so he just let loose and threw something back. I don't think it was food or wine though."

"Probably not," Tristan said. "Because he was mad that they didn't even get to eat. It didn't take 'em that long to argue."

"No different than usual," Duke commented.

"Right? 0 to 60 in point five seconds," Tristan said, sliding his hands together to mime a car taking off. "He said Kaiba blamed him for the argument. Wouldn't apologise, wouldn't take them anywhere else, and then just left him here. Which I know is true. He called me to pick his ass up and take him back to Yugi's."

"Oh…" Yugi blinked. "He was drunk when he made it to my place if this is the same night we're talking about."

The conversation quickly devolved into a mess of differing details. Speculative arguments were passed back and forth for so long that appetisers arrived. That was about as long as Mokuba could last, his stomach hurting from holding back all the laughter. Serenity seemed to be doing much better than him, coddling Grace instead.

"Guys," Mokuba said once. The cacophony continued. "Guys!"

Leave it to Joey to leave everyone in a mess now, when he couldn't give them an explanation. That thought made his smile falter. There would no more stories like this, no more exaggerations, little white lies, or embellishment to his stories. None of that. A bitter reminder of the things that he had left behind, the mysteries and secrets forever unsolved.

Mokuba tried to springboard back with the thought that, of all the things that Joey could have left behind, this was perhaps the kindest. Mokuba suspected that this wasn't the only one, either. There were probably hundreds of small stories that they would never get a definite narrative to, but that was okay. They were all still left behind in their memories. Weird little puzzles for them to talk about and solve, as if he always wanted to make sure they were talking about him. It probably wasn't that elaborate. Joey never was. But Mokuba didn't have the proof, so he'd tell himself that it was truth. It was better that way.

Resolved, he began to clink his fork against his glass, quieting the crowd.

"Okay, so, first of all, he's got every single one of you fooled," he began, pointing at everyone. "Second: who the hell would kick Seto out of a restaurant? Think about that for one second. Seriously guys, c'mon. This _is_ Seto we're talking about. We probably wouldn't be sitting here if that part was true."

"Alright, kid. Tell us the truth then, if you know so much," Tristan said.

"Sure. They came here on a blind date," Mokuba said, matter-of-fact. "Me and Serenity pretty much worked together on that one. Set it up like I was dragging Seto here, and Serenity was going to meet him here for a nice dinner. Once we all got here, we forced them both inside and then ditched them."

"Joey wasn't too happy about it," Serenity added. "He tried to run away immediately. He nearly dragged me right back to the subway. I told him to give Seto a chance because I knew that he had feelings. He just wasn't sure what to do with them. And Mokuba said Seto was acting the same way, so we thought it would be a good idea."

"Which it was. And wasn't," Mokuba said. "They both got a little plastered. Seto wasn't really...all there when he got home. Told me that he had a good time and then went to bed. That was it."

Tristan's face was screwed up in confusion. "Joey said they got into a huge ass argument. He was pissed off when I grabbed him."

"When didn't they fight?" Mokuba asked.

Tristan opened his mouth, retort ready, before snapping it closed. Duke shoved him. "Yeah, knucklehead. When didn't they fight?"

"Shut up. You're not right either."

"More right than you."

Mokuba sighed. "Anyways, I dunno where all this craziness came from. But I know he called it 'That Stupid Italian Place' probably because he was so drunk. Possibly a little embarrassed. I dunno, he never explained it to me."

"Maybe he didn't know how to tell us about the relationship at the time," Bakura offered.

Anything was possible, Mokuba thought. He was too drunk. He wanted to embellish. He was embarrassed about the beginning of his and Seto's relationship. For all he knew, it was just Joey's memory eroding, retelling the story with different, more varying details each time it came up.

"I think that he was just keeping up the lie after a while. He was always…" Mokuba paused, thinking about what he just said.

Was.

He wasn't even sure if he had said it before or not. He might have, not knowing what he was saying, but now, it was like thunder in his ears.

Was.

Was.

Was.

Joey was.

Fresh tears welled in his eyes, but Mokuba sucked in a steadying breath to force them away and get back on track.

"...he was always big on telling crazy stories. I...I wish he was here to tell it to you guys for real. I'm not sure what he would say, but it would probably be awesome," Mokuba said. His smile was disheartened, but he didn't let it fall as he raised his glass and looked at the empty chair. "To Joey."

Yugi followed first, with the rest miming shortly after. "To Joey," Yugi said. "The best friend—,"

"And brother," Tristan added, looking between Serenity and Mokuba.

"—and brother," Yugi agreed, "that anyone could ever have."

"May he never be forgotten," Mokuba said.

A quiet agreement swirled around the group, with Yugi muttering, "Well said," low enough that maybe only Mokuba had heard him. Which was fine. It didn't matter if he said it well or poor, just that everyone knew it. That they would never forget Joey. No matter how much it hurt deep in Mokuba's chest, he wouldn't let himself, or Seto, forget about Joey. The pain would go away. Eventually.


	4. Bargaining

Yugi frowned at his phone held loosely in his hand. Tristan was stuck at work for the foreseeable future, and Duke had already planned a date with his girlfriend. It was just going to be him and Bakura at the bar. Not that he minded, but it was more fun in a group. Though, he still hadn't heard from Mokuba yet. He had invited Kaiba, too, not expecting an answer or his attendance, solely as a way to let his occasional rival know that he was thinking about him. It had only been a week since the funeral. A long, difficult week, and Yugi had found himself crying more than he cared to admit now that the shock had worn off.

Regardless, he'd decided that it was Saturday night, and he was going to try to have a good time. Stay positive for Joey like he'd vowed. Bakura arrived at his place right on time, and the two meandered to the bar right down the street. Bakura was always a sloppy drunk, entertaining to watch and giggly, and after a few himself, he was right there with him, laughing over things that weren't even really that funny. That was how they passed the time, the buzz making his thoughts hazy and allowing him to forget about the heartbreak he felt.

He thought that he'd been there for a few hours when he began to sober up. He was getting ready to close his tab for the night when Mokuba came in, unceremoniously collapsing on a bar stool next to him and ordering two shots that he downed quickly. He followed them up with a beer.

"Tough week?" Yugi asked, though it seemed a bit unnecessary. They'd all had tough weeks, and the sheer quantity Mokuba had just drank indicated as much.

"Only slightly better than last week," Mokuba replied, voice expressing nothing. It was eerily similar to his older brother's.

"How are you holding up?"

A shrug, and Mokuba groaned. "I mean, I'm still here."

"How's your brother handling everything?" Bakura asked gently, still inebriated, but clearly aware enough to know the sensitivity the question required.

Mokuba gave a short, sarcastic bark of laughter. "Seto keeps telling me he's fine, but he's definitely not fucking fine."

"I'm sure he misses Joey a lot," Yugi said.

Mokuba sighed, picking up the beer and taking a long draught. "I know he does, but he refuses to admit it. He's closed himself up entirely. I guess he's pretending that nothing happened."

"Pretending that Joey didn't die?" Bakura asked for clarification.

"I don't know," Mokuba spat. "It's almost like… he's pretending Joey never existed. That he never meant anything."

"That's umm…" Yugi started carefully. "That's extreme." Though to him, Kaiba and extreme went hand in hand.

"Tell me about it. I don't… I don't know what to do for him. He's not willing to handle it. Any of it. He removed himself and made me plan the funeral. He'd rather tell himself it was all meaningless instead of facing how he really feels."

Yugi reached out to give Mokuba's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your brother has always been a bit all-or-nothing when it comes to losing. I mean, I stared him in the face as he threatened to kill himself for your sake."

"What?" Mokuba asked sharply, wide-eyed and confused.

Bakura cleared his throat to explain, "When you were kidnapped by Pegasus all those years ago? He came to save you, but before Pegasus would see him, he had to beat Yugi in a duel. And well, your brother was losing, and to force Yugi's hand, he stood on the ledge of the castle before what was going to be the final attack, saying that if he couldn't win and save you, he might as well die. Atem was going to attack and win, hellbent on saving Yugi's grandpa."

"And I made him stop," Yugi shared. "I took back over and forfeited the duel."

Mokuba gave him a wry smile. "And he saved us both in the end, anyway. Seto never told me that story. I'm kind of surprised none of you guys ever did before now. But that kind of thing... Like, it's got Gozaburo written all over it. He's not really like that anymore."

"That's kind of what I was trying to say," Yugi began again. "Kaiba has always hated to lose, but he's learned to accept losing a competition with a little more grace now."

"Turning into a moody bastard is not what I'd call 'grace', Yugi," Mokuba retorted.

"He doesn't try to kill people anymore. That's a plus," Bakura added in what seemed to be an attempt to be helpful.

"Yes. But," Yugi continued, emphasizing the word in a rather dramatic fashion, "he couldn't ever stand to lose people close to him. He was willing to die for you, Mokuba. To keep you safe and alive. And now Joey's gone, and he didn't do a thing to stop it. He probably thinks it's his fault. That he should have been there. Can you imagine how that feels to him? Going seven years living with the same person, loving that same person, and to suddenly have all of that just...end?"

"I totally get that," Mokuba agreed. "I just hate seeing him like this. He won't say a word to me. I know he's not eating or sleeping, and I'm worried about him. I don't like...expect him to move on from Joey or anything. I don't think he ever will, and that's okay. But I hate that he's lying to himself."

"Yeah," Bakura agreed. "That would be tough. Especially when you probably want him to be there for you, too."

"Yeah. I lost Joey, and God, it hurts so much because he was like my other big brother. I loved him, too. The three of us were our own little family, you know? And now, in a different way, I've lost my big brother, too, because he's taking it so badly, and..." Mokuba's voice ceased to work, coming out in a high pitched croak. Tears flowed down his cheeks. Bakura pulled him into an embrace, and Mokuba melted into it, clinging to what Yugi imagined was the first embrace he'd had in a while. Watching it unfold before him made him acutely aware of just how hard this whole thing was on Mokuba. As Kaiba unravelled, Mokuba had to pick up the pieces. He had to stay strong for Kaiba's sake, which meant Mokuba hadn't had a chance to really mourn. He was tired, upset, and in need of anyone to cling to because for the first time in a long time, it couldn't be his brother. And that spoke volumes regarding the mental and emotional state of Seto Kaiba.

Bakura didn't mind as Mokuba clung to him, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around the younger man, gently patting his back in reassurance. Minutes later, Mokuba managed to pull himself together and moved out of Bakura's arms, but Yugi didn't miss how worn out he looked. How much the last two weeks had visibly aged him.

Yugi suddenly felt a hand clap on his shoulder, and he jumped, whipping around to see Tristan behind him. Tristan said, "You'll be alright, kid."

Mokuba wiped the remaining tears away. "Eventually, yeah."

Tristan's eyes narrowed, studying Mokuba's face, and then he sighed. "Worried about your brother?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too. But he's Seto Kaiba. Something like this ain't going to slow him down."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Mokuba admitted softly.

The group all seemed to sigh at the same moment because Mokuba was absolutely right. Kaiba would throw himself into work to keep his mind elsewhere, and by keeping his mind elsewhere, he would distract himself from his pain and grief. He wouldn't spend the time he needed to mourn. He'd be hurting and have no outlet, and there was no way anything good would come of that.

Yugi swallowed as he felt his throat go dry, anxious about how the next few months would pan out. He cleared his throat. "If… if you need someone for anything, Mokuba, let us know."

Mokuba nodded. "Yeah. I will." He didn't say much else after that, simply paying for all of their drinks and heading out with a quiet, "See you guys later."

They all headed out after that, as well. Each went their separate ways. Yugi worried for Kaiba more now than he had before. He worried for Mokuba. It had been almost two weeks, and it still seemed just as surreal, just as unbelievable. Maybe someday it would be easier, but for now, all he could do was cling to the hope that they'd all find peace eventually.

—

If Roland were to voice his opinion on his boss, it would be full of nothing but praise. He'd watched Seto grow from a hot-headed teenager hellbent on winning to a level-headed man more concerned with bettering the world with forward-thinking technology. He thought of the Kaiba brothers almost like his children, and while he didn't really have the right, he felt the same pride a parent would when he thought of them and their accomplishments.

He'd also, somehow, started thinking of Joey as one of his own children, too. He might as well have been with how much time they ended up seeing each other. Outside of work, Seto was almost always in Joey's company. When they first started spending time together, Seto had played it off as Joey being annoying and clingy, but Roland quickly saw through that façade, realizing that his young boss just wanted Joey's company. Joey always seemed content to simply exist in Seto's presence, though Roland knew there had to have been times when he demanded more complete attention.

 _Like right now_ , he thought sadly.

Though he wasn't doing it on purpose anymore. A month since the funeral, and Seto still refused to cope or address his own feelings. It seemed as though he believed that if he ignored what had happened, pretended nothing had changed, that suddenly everything would revert to normal. It wasn't healthy to push aside his feelings like that, and he could see the toll Seto already paid for it.

Roland shook his head as he stared at the ghost of the Seto he'd known before. His complexion had gone unusually pale, his hair fell limp and unstyled into his eyes. His eyes no longer blazed with life, the dazzling and piercing blue suddenly seeming murky and unfocused, and the dark purple bruises under them indicated severe sleep deprivation. He'd lost weight, something most others wouldn't have noticed, but Roland spent enough time with him to be able to see the hollowing of his cheeks as his overall appearance slowly but surely changed from thin-but-healthy to gaunt.

"Take me to the manor," he demanded, like he had every night since Joey's passing.

He reached to open the car door and wondered if he should say something. He'd considered saying something every evening for the last couple of weeks. At first, it seemed like Seto had been staying close to Mokuba so they could comfort each other, but now he was fairly convinced that Seto just didn't want to go home to the place he'd shared with Joey and find it empty. Going home meant he'd have to deal with the fact that Joey was no longer there.

Deciding against voicing his opinion this time, he stated, "Very well, sir."

Seto settled into the car with minimal grace, obviously too tired to carry himself with his usual poise. Roland closed the door and went around to the driver's side, easing himself in and then driving to the manor as instructed. As he drove, he glanced back in the rearview mirror, seeing Seto with his arms crossed and his head tilted forward, chin against his chest as he succumbed to sleep he desperately needed.

A moment was spent to take stock of his physical condition, taking mental notes of everything wrong so he could inform Mokuba. While Roland could not force Seto to take care of himself, he knew Mokuba could and would. In fact, Mokuba was probably the only person who could reason with him right now. And if reason failed, Mokuba had the unique ability of bending Seto to his will, and while not always effective, it worked often enough for Roland to believe it would this time.

Turning into the driveway of the manor proved enough of a disturbance to wake Seto, who finally looked up, seeming dazed as he took in his surroundings. His expression turned neutral once he realized where they were. As he drove the rest of the way, he heard Seto gathering up his things. He did so slowly, as though it was challenging, and Roland supposed that if Seto was so utterly exhausted to nap in the car, it must have been a struggle, indeed.

He pulled up to the front entrance and put the car in park, climbing out and walking around to open the door for Seto. His boss clambered out clumsily, ascending the short staircase slowly to the reach the front door. Mokuba had it pulled open before Seto reached for the handle. "Welcome home, Seto!" he greeted with a smile.

He simply gave Mokuba a nod of acknowledgement, walked through the open door, and trudged up the stairs to the second floor without a word, heading to his office, Roland presumed.

"Thanks for taking care of him, Roland."

"It's my pleasure, Master Mokuba. Though… may I step in and have a word with you?"

"Of course," Mokuba said, beckoning for him to come inside.

Closing the door behind him, Roland cleared his throat and began: "I'm worried about Master Seto."

"Who isn't…?" Mokuba trailed off, seeming somewhat bitter.

"I believe he's avoiding coming to terms with Joey's death. I know it must have been devastating for him, but he's killing himself trying to run away."

"I noticed. I… I've tried to give him space, you know? To let him work through things on his own."

"I understand. I have, as well. I just… I don't think it's prudent to let it go any longer. Doing so might send him to the hospital," Roland shared ominously. At Mokuba's frown, he continued, "I spend my entire day at his side. He's not eating. He's losing weight. He's so tired that even gathering up his briefcase is a struggle. He needs help. He needs us to help him."

Mokuba chewed on the inside of his lip, running his hand through his hair. "Damn it, I know, but he'll never go see a grief counselor. He told me specifically not to talk about Joey ever again. And I promised I wouldn't. I just don't know how to help him other than offering food and telling him to go to bed and letting him know he can talk to me."

Roland paused for a moment, taking in just how nervous Mokuba seemed. The younger Kaiba clearly had noticed his brother's condition. The promise he'd made kept him from bringing up anything related to Joey. Somber, he shared, "I think the first step is getting him to go home. He's avoiding it. He only ever asks to be brought here. I think he needs to be forced to deal with his refusal to go back. You aren't allowed to talk to him about Master Joey. Neither of us can force him to cope with losing Master Joey, but we can push him in that direction."

Mokuba nodded, understanding the unspoken request Roland had just made. "I'll drag him there, if I have to." A smile and a shrug, followed by stating, "If he's as tired as you say and has lost a bunch of weight, I ought to be able to pick him up and carry him even if he fights me."

"Very good, Master Mokuba," Roland said, a slight smile on his face at the mental image. "Should I wait in the car?"

Mokuba thought for a second, and then shook his head. "No, I've got this. I'll drive if I can get him to agree to go. You can go home for the night. And really, thank you. For watching out for my brother."

Roland bowed in acknowledgement. "It's my job to watch out for him," he shared, "but I do genuinely care about him. It's hard to see him still hurting so much, and I worry for his health."

"I know. I appreciate it. I'm worried about him, too."

He warmed at Mokuba's words. "Goodnight, Master Mokuba. And best of luck."

Mokuba smiled at him. "Thanks. Goodnight to you too, Roland."

—

With Roland's words in mind, Mokuba approached the study cautiously. He couldn't go into this with fear, though the chances of being rejected were high. The last month's worth of conversations had been curt, monosyllabic, or flat-out assaulting. He took his brother's inability to cope with patience and understanding, knowing that Seto wouldn't take the same route as everyone else.

But after a month, after what Roland had described, and after what he had seen of his brother when he wasn't forcing himself to be busy, Mokuba knew enough was enough. He knocked, as if he needed to give Seto warning before barging in—though maybe he shouldn't have. Being forceful had gotten Seto to admit _something_ once _,_ but that was the last admission of any kind of grief, or acknowledgment of Joey's passing, that he had heard.

"Enter."

Mokuba walked in, jamming his hands in his pockets and trying to find the right place to start. He had planned what to say, played it out in his head, but most of it vanished as he looked over Seto—the remnants of him in the deep cut shadows cast by the glow of the computer screen. Guilt panged in his chest; waiting this long to say something had been intentional. Everyone needed time, but it almost felt wrong that Roland had to tell him that Seto was withering away before he decided it was time to intervene.

Mokuba spent so long drinking in all the small changes that Seto finally asked: "What do you want?"

"To talk."

"About?"

A deep breath. "I think you should go home."

Though his focus never left the computer screen, Mokuba saw where Seto's eyes became half-lidded. "I am home, Mokuba."

"You know what I mean," Mokuba said.

"I can assure you, I don't," Seto replied. The denial was still heavy in his voice, but his words were incredibly flat. As if he didn't have the energy to put up the fight. It had been somewhat of a joke, his suggestion to physically carry Seto home, but it suddenly felt possible. Necessary, if Seto was so far in denial. "Everything I need is right here. You included. This is home."

Mokuba tilted his head and stepped closer to the desk. Everything. An odd choice of word. "Well, if it's me you need at a place for it to be home—how about I go with you?"

"Mokuba…"

"I'm serious," Mokuba said. "I mean, there's gotta be stuff back at the penthouse you need. Clothes or...probably some work stuff. Look, I know it's not going to be easy," Seto scoffed, "but one step at a time, I figure."

"Work files have duplicates. Clothes can be bought," he said, waving Mokuba off.

"Then what about the bed?"

Seto arched a brow. "What of it?"

"I know you aren't sleeping," Mokuba accused. The purple splotches of sleeplessness under Seto's eyes, while common, looked more like bruises now.

"I never sleep."

"Yeah well, you're sleeping worse than 'never sleep' now," Mokuba said with air quotes. "I don't think being here's helping all that much."

"It won't be any different there."

Mokuba shrugged. "You don't know that, though. You haven't tried." Seto scowled, but there was a twitch in his cheeks that suggested maybe, just maybe, he was listening. "I mean, if you don't sleep here and don't sleep there, what's the difference?"

Seto's hands folded beneath his chin, and his eyes closed for a few moments, convincing Mokuba he had dozed off until he said: "There isn't any. That's why it doesn't matter if I stay here or not."

"But you need to go home."

"Why?"

"Because!" Mokuba said. He scrambled to find the next words before Seto shot him down. He was trying to be careful, trying to use a little reason, without being too forward. "Because...you've had plenty of time."

"Oh, have I? I'll be sure to consult you next time when—,"

"That's," Mokuba took breath, "that's not what I meant. Don't twist my words. We all need time, Seto, I get it. But it's been a month. If you really have figured it out, go home. And if you haven't...you still should. Maybe it'll help."

"I'm fine," Seto assured.

"Good, go home then," Mokuba said, arms cast out towards the door. Seto looked away. "Just for the night, go home. I'll go there with you. You don't have to do this alone, okay?"

There were a few seconds of contemplation. "Fine," Seto agreed. "...I'm sure there's...something I left."

Relieved that he didn't have to twist any further, Mokuba nodded. They'd do this one step at a time.

—

Walking into the house for the first time in a month was...strange. Kaiba expected the smell of staleness, of dust, or of something worse he couldn't tangibly explain. Instead, it was a light smell of sandalwood and lavender, with a touch of bleach where the maid must have come through recently. And why wouldn't she, he asked himself. It wasn't like he told her to stop. Maybe he should have. Whatever remnants of Joey's familiar musk had likely been swept away in that time.

Still, he didn't recoil from walking through the house. Mokuba would have stopped him if he tried to turn around, so expending the effort was out of the question. It almost made it easier, knowing he didn't have much choice, to put one foot in front of the other.

Inwardly, Kaiba wondered how long 'the night' consisted of. Was it just until morning, where he could leave the house at dawn and head to work, or was it a full day, where Mokuba expected him to come back? If that was the case, he planned on spending as much time at work as possible.

He meandered through, almost against his will, veering through the kitchen and glancing about. He wasn't sure what he expected when he returned. The remainders of that morning, maybe. Whatever Joey had been cutting up still laid out. Dirty dishes still in the sink. But the place didn't feel lived in anymore. There had been so many other things on his mind, on Mokuba's too, that whether or not a maid service swept through fell by the wayside.

After, he bee-lined to the bedroom, ignoring everything else. This was a challenge. All he had to do was finish the challenge, and he'd be done. They would go back to the manor and this would all be over with. Standing in these rooms wouldn't help him. Joey was gone. Period. There was little else that needed to be prodded or examined. He'd gotten all the answers in the autopsy, they'd buried the body...he'd gone on with life. That's what people did. Moved on.

Kaiba staggered into the bedroom, pausing at the foot of their bed. He wondered what it must have looked like. Had Joey splayed out across the bed like usual, or had he curled into the fetal position trying to find some kind of relief? That the bed was made gave him no indication either way, and all of his questions were left solely to the imagination.

On the right side of the room was the closet. All of the clothes hung neatly, freshly-pressed and evenly spaced. To the right side, just beyond the muted array of button-ups, was a color coordinated rainbow of t-shirts and sweaters. Joey's side. Likely the neatest it had ever been or would ever be. So perfect that it was wrong; it didn't belong that way. Joey could grab one shirt, and three more would fall down with it. He wouldn't bother to pick them up, just step over them for later.

It took several blinks before Kaiba realised that it hadn't happened. That it was a mirage; a memory playing again and again. A stupid expectation.

Sighing, Kaiba stepped over to the closet and began to grab the clothes he needed, knowing that he didn't plan on returning to the penthouse afterwards. He continued to thumb through the remainders looking for a specific shirt: a dark blue sweater that he hadn't found in over a month. He didn't stall his hand before thumbing through Joey's side, finding it tucked deep between two oversized hoodies. He was quick to rip it out and throw it over his arm with the rest.

What was he going to do with Joey's clothes? Pivoting around in the bedroom, seeing all the small effects across the dresser and the nightstands, he wondered what he did with any of it. Everything was just there, untouched but almost mocking. They were solid reminders that made it easy to fall into the feeling that nothing had changed. It was comfortable to be in the mindset that, as soon as he walked out of the bedroom, he would see Joey making a run between the kitchen and the living room for no good reason. All of the well-meaning, unsolicited advice he'd received hadn't told him what to do with clothes or old magazines Joey had promised to pick up; the cologne bottles left uncapped or the green jacket slung haphazardly on the vanity chair in the corner. That, Kaiba didn't let sit.

Hs stole it up and and pressed it amongst the clothes he had gathered. After, he left the bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him.

The rest of the night, he took up his usual chair in the living room, going over different work documents on his tablet. Or whatever he could get through when he kept reading the same line over and over again. He rubbed his eyes and swallowed a sigh, glancing over to the chair beside him. For half a second, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joey and prepared to say, 'You're too quiet', or might have even started the first syllable before biting the tip of his tongue.

Mokuba. Not Joey.

But Mokuba was just the right amount of relaxed, leaning against the arm of the chair with his feet pulled up under him, scrolling through something on his phone.

Mokuba glanced up and over, offering a weak smile. "What's up?"

Kaiba turned back to the tablet. "Nothing."

"You sure? I'm here if you wanna talk."

His brows raised, but he refrained from rolling his eyes. Mokuba was trying to help him, and he appreciated the sentiment even though it wasn't needed.

"There's nothing to say. I was thinking for a moment."

Mokuba sighed, and Kaiba did his best to ignore whatever beleaguered look Mokuba was giving him. Likely the same he'd been receiving since the start. The doe-eyed expectant look, waiting for the moment that he caved in and told Mokuba everything on his mind. But there was nothing. Simple as that.

Looking away, Mokuba said: "I think I'm going to make dinner. Want anything special?"

"No, thank you."

"You going to eat at least?"

Kaiba shrugged. "I'm not hungry."

Mokuba set a hand on Kaiba's shoulder, squeezing. "I'll make enough for both of us in case you change your mind."

"If it makes you happy."

The hand lingered for longer than Kaiba expected. Long enough that he hunched his shoulders closer to the warmth, begging for the contact. He went to reach up and touch Mokuba's hand but stalled, balling his fingers into a fist until Mokuba walked away. Only then did he feel the warm spot, brushing his fingers along it and imagining it was one of Joey's rough pats as he passed by between rooms. He'd always been incapable of walking by Kaiba without touching him somehow.

His hand slid up to his neck, massaging the ever present knot he had from being hunched over, stretching his shoulders about and readjusting in the seat. Back to the grind, away from any intrusive thoughts. Mokuba only wanted him to stay for the night. He never said it had to be a work-free zone.

The deeper he got into it, the easier it was to ignore the tiredness and the pain behind his eyes. He flipped through old spreadsheets, double-checking that the work from a month prior didn't have any errors, fixing them quickly and attributing them to his lack of focus.

But as he pulled up one, his breath hitched.

A smiley face was drawn across several cells in the spreadsheet. Thin as the tip of a fingernail. ' _see u later_ ' scrawled sloppily beneath. Kaiba's finger hovered over top of it, tracing it before threatening to delete it. Like always.

And then the full weight of the words hit. Everything stopped. He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. There was just him and an innocuous message—something he would berate Joey for regularly. "Stop messing with my files; it's not cute," he would say. Then Joey would give him the finger and ask: "That cute enough for ya?" And he would laugh.

He was stuck between laughing and breathing, coming out in short, angered croaks as he shook his head and buried his face in his hands. His resolve was waning. All the little reminders hit him, again and again, taking chunks from his skin. It hurt. As if the bones and the muscle and the organs were exposed for all to see. They didn't deserve to see it—only two people deserved it, and one of them was dead.

There, he said it. Dead. Joey was dead.

With every fiber of his being, Kaiba hated that word. Dead. As if that was the only descriptor that mattered.

He was fighting a losing battle to keep himself calm. The reminders were almost like paranoia. The deep recesses of his brain knew they weren't real, but they felt real. Fingertips against his skin, whispers in his ear. It wasn't the grandiose memories, like the crazy details of their teenage years being shared at the funeral like a campfire serenade. It was the small things. Burned in images and expectations that came from sitting behind a desk, climbing into the car, or as little as he could lately, lying in bed. Waiting, agonising, for things that would never come.

He swallowed hard. His throat went raw as he stifled the tears brimming in his eyes. _This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real._

Even through the blobs and flecks of tears, the message was clear:

_see u later._

"How?" Kaiba asked, only because he couldn't think it. His head was too muddled. "Goddamn you, how?"

Rubbing at his eyes with the butts of his palms, Kaiba tried to stifle the feeling. It came out silently, whistling through clenched teeth. Anger and frustration and sorrow seeped out against his permission. Piece by piece, he fell apart. All strength and poise gone until his head was between his knees. He shook, pressing his thumbs into his throat to force himself to breathe.

Could memories suffocate someone?

It felt like he was choking. The hiccuped sobs forced themselves through his closed throat. He barely heard the tiny, guttural noises over the sound of his own heart beating, hammering against ribs already assaulted by aching lungs as he held in the longest breath he could.

Air. He needed air.

Kaiba was outside before he knew it. He didn't care to look back and see if he had been followed. Instead, he leaned far over the railing, clutching it and looking over the wide expanse of the city. It twinkled brightly, indifferent to the sadness or the loss. Everyone else had moved on.

An involuntary tremor shook through him as he gripped the ice-slicked railing. Frigid air filled his lungs. It was too brisk to be standing outside for long.

Though Kaiba would never allow himself to be called a coward, for a second, the void called to him. The great distance below, the indifferent ants skittering around, asked him to consider what it felt like. What Joey was going through, if he was anywhere. Afterlives may have existed—he had Yugi to thank for that consideration, but this was so vastly different from the Pharaoh. These weren't spirits. This wasn't magic. It was the true black and white of the world: people were born, and people died. If there was an Afterlife, a place where the eternal soul went when the physical body passed, maybe there was a way to get there, too.

"Seto?" Mokuba asked. Kaiba drew his head up but didn't look back. "What are you doing out here?"

"Thinking," he replied. Painful shudders still surfaced. He wiped the tears away with his sleeve.

Mokuba took a tentative step closer. "What about?"

"Joseph."

Kaiba's reply was quick. He knew it wasn't wrong, just roundabout. He could barely comprehend his own thought process, let alone explain it to Mokuba.

"Oh...it's uh...it's kind of cold out," Mokuba said, his trepidation loud and clear. Kaiba realized he still clutched tight to the railing. One hand lifted, covering his face.

"It is." The headache pulsed behind his eyes. He remembered how to breathe evenly.

"Yeah. You should come inside. Dinner's almost done...and I made tea."

"I'm fine out here."

Mokuba took another step closer, just in arm's reach. "Are you?" he asked, his voice strained. Kaiba saw him from the corner of his eye and suspected that Mokuba saw the red and puffy traces of tears he was trying to hold back. His body wasn't allowing it. "Seto…? Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

Kaiba had to stop and process his response, surprised by it. He wondered if Mokuba was doing the same. A constant answer of 'fine' staved off deeper questions and usually led to condolences. But for the first time, he felt like answering differently.

"Okay," Mokuba said, stepping elbow to elbow with his brother. "That's good. Well, not good, but...it's somewhere to start. What's...what's going on in your head right now?"

"That this is my fault."

Mokuba furrowed his brows. "What is?"

Kaiba leaned his elbows against the railing and looked far over, able to see someone exiting from the apartment complex. "Joseph. It's my fault he's dead."

"There's no way that's true."

"It is. He'd be alive if it wasn't for me." Kaiba ran his hand down his face. He flicked the last of the tears away and rubbed his nose on his wrist. "I didn't come home. I told him that I wouldn't be late, but...I was."

Mokuba set his hand on his brother's forearm. Kaiba nudged him away. "Seto, I don't think…"

"You don't know," Kaiba said. He turned and caught Mokuba briefly looking over the railing before looking back. Probably gauging just how close he was to the edge.

"It was fast, they said. You heard the doctor. It probably hit him faster than anyone could have done anything."

"It was an illness, not a bullet. There was time," Kaiba said, scornful. He looked back out towards the landscape. "Plenty of time…"

The air between them stilled. Mokuba shifted from one foot to the other as he searched for words. It didn't matter to Kaiba what he was going to say. The moment he paused was a moment of consideration, a what-if in Mokuba's mind. All the while Kaiba felt himself being stared down.

Kaiba elected to keep talking. That's what Mokuba wanted. "I thought that when I left that morning."

"Thought what?"

"That I had plenty of time. Joseph had mentioned going to the Children's Home for Christmas, and I thought about how I needed to find gifts for you and him," he let out a one breathed laugh. "Ridiculous."

"You didn't know what would happen."

"I did." Mokuba's lips thinned. "He cut his finger. I knew he had done that; if I didn't kill him from coming home late, I did it by just being...foolish and letting him pull the wool over my eyes. He treated it like it was nothing. He…," Kaiba's voice broke, and he waited several seconds for it to return. "The idiot joked about it! He rolled around on the floor with an open wound and played dead. And I said nothing…and I didn't come home. I killed him twice."

"Seto…"

"If it weren't for me, Joseph would be alive." Kaiba regripped the railing, one socked foot slipping between the thin bars before he pulled it away from the cold. Laughter rumbled through him, and he sucked in large lungfuls of the chilled air to keep himself upright. "I've been thinking about that off and on for a while now. That, and how time is unfortunately linear. You can't go back, and I keep wondering if I could find a way. Time and dimensions don't seem so different. All it probably takes is a readjustment of coordinates or code. Something."

"You miss him," Mokuba concluded.

Kaiba nodded. "More than that. I…" Another wave of warm, thick tears slipped down his cheeks. He closed his eyes to try and shake them. He gestured along his side absently, used to Joey's warmth against him like a second skin. "There's something missing from me. One of my senses or...a vital organ. I would give anything to be with him one more time. I can't...I can't figure out how to live without him."

There. That was Mokuba had been waiting for him to say. The kind of emotions he'd likely expected Kaiba to spill from the very beginning. Even now, the words felt foreign. Putting the immense number of emotions into words was about as easy as looking out to the city and being able to grasp it in one hand. It would always be piecemeal. Section by section, it would be gathered up and put together until it was almost recognizable. Enough that someone could say they knew or they understood. It wasn't consoling to have someone else tell him that they almost knew what he felt like. His feelings weren't the same as theirs, and they never would be. Joey was…

Mokuba wrapped his arms around Kaiba's elbow and pulled him back. "What are doing?" Kaiba asked.

"Taking you inside."

"I'm fine out here."

"No, you're not." Kaiba frowned and tried to slither away. Mokuba's grip tightened. "You're...you're hanging off the railing!"

"And?"

Another sharp tug. "Just come inside, Seto. Please."

Kaiba looked over the railing again. The void below kept howling to him, but he wasn't listening. He knew that the pavement was nothing but destruction. He still felt...something. Pain was a feeling, even if it wasn't a kind one. And he didn't need to jump just so he could continue to experience pain for the few seconds it would take for his heart to stop on the way down. It was always the fall that killed you, not the pain.

Depending on someone's view of the Afterlife, too, doing it that way would have yielded him no rewards. But he hadn't entertained that thought for even a second. A different timeline, a different dimension, _anything_ was better than suicide.

His continual glance below, however, clearly made Mokuba think otherwise.

With a sigh, he let go of the railing and shuffled onto the deck, allowing for Mokuba to drag him inside. Mokuba had begun talking to him about options, things like going to a counselor or taking time off from work. He vaguely listened but didn't respond, though he accepted dinner when Mokuba forced it upon him. Anything to calm his little brother down.

Kaiba resolved to find a way to see Joey again. There had to be a way with so many different paths open to him. He would find his 'one last time'. And he'd do whatever it took to get there.


	5. Acceptance

The idea had snuck up on Kaiba slowly, but from the moment he'd admitted his feelings to Mokuba and himself, it had become an all-consuming obsession. He dedicated all his time, energy, and focus to one thing: there had to be a way to see Joey again.

His immediate thought had been reincarnation. If he could bring Joey back to life, all of his pain would disappear. But reincarnation would lead him down a strange path filled with magic and necromancy, and he'd spent far too long firmly embedded in science to entertain such absurdity for longer than a few moments.

He had toyed with the idea of cloning. That had seemed promising. Achievable. More in line with what he knew. But when he really thought about it, it wouldn't actually work. Genetically, a clone would be identical, but it wouldn't have the same upbringing. The same experiences. Everything that had truly made Joey _Joey_ would be missing.

It had led Kaiba down an entirely different train of thought. Artificial intelligence could perhaps be the solution to his problem. If he built a self-learning AI comprised of his memories of Joey, it would almost have been like he was there. A stand-in for the void that now existed in his life. He had started working on that idea, but then he'd scrapped it. He didn't have much in the way of audio clips to work with. Additionally, it was the physical presence in his life that he missed the most. An AI would do little to solve that, not unless he created an android, and while his technology was admittedly advanced, the development of humanoid robots was not something they'd ventured into deeply yet. It would be years until he could build something that would satisfy his requirements, and he couldn't wait years.

So he'd decided that instead of bringing Joey back to him, he would find a way to get to Joey.

The more he researched and read, the clearer it became. A near-death experience would be required to cross over. Temporarily, of course. He had no plans of killing himself, despite how heavily Joey's death still weighed on him and how much Mokuba worried that he might try.

No. This would be perfectly controlled, holding him right at the cusp of death and then pulling him back before it was too late. And he knew how to do it. He turned back to his notes, an amalgamation created after many hours spent talking to doctors, interviewing those who had died and come back, and reading any book he could on the topic.

Death wasn't when the heart stopped.

It was when the brain ceased to function.

It meant that surviving hinged on not allowing his brain to stop once his heart had, and he had devised a perfect plan to keep his brain going. He had spent years developing SolidVision, and it could perfectly sync up with his brain. He had perfect control of the technology, and he knew exactly what each line of code did and the function of each miniscule piece of hardware. SolidVision was his crowning achievement. It could tap into his subconscious and project images from his mind. He'd only need to make some simple changes to the code, alter it to give his brain just enough stimulation to keep working. To keep it processing enough information to keep him alive.

He was getting close to finishing his modifications to the code when Mokuba walked in. He straightened in his seat, subtly closing his notes and tucking them away. He didn't want Mokuba to know what he was working on; he'd be angry if he knew and would try to dissuade Kaiba from continuing. Mokuba would call him reckless, tell him he was acting out of grief and that he needed help. But he didn't need help. He needed to see Joey.

"What are you up to?" Mokuba asked curiously, approaching his desk.

"Just something to enhance the SolidVision functionality," Seto said, choosing to answer with vague honesty.

"Oh. Okay," Mokuba agreed. "I was going to head into town to grab something for dinner. You want to come with me?"

He was about to say no. He didn't want to leave his work nor did he feel especially hungry, but Mokuba would be upset if he didn't eat. Since the night he'd broken down, Mokuba had been decidedly more forceful with him. And Kaiba had just… allowed it. He didn't have the strength, physical or mental, to fight his brother. If Mokuba said he should eat, he would eat, for no other reason than to not have to listen to his younger brother's worried nagging. When Mokuba said he should go to bed, he left his office and went to his bedroom.

He didn't sleep in his bed though. No. He couldn't. Anywhere he'd ever slept with Joey was off-limits. He'd tried, but the memories were so firmly carved into his mind that he could feel the blonde settle in next to him, the mattress shifting, with arms snaking around his torso and warm breath on his neck. It was maddening to turn over and find himself alone each time, tricked by a hallucination, a memory so vivid that it felt real.

So he found himself in strange places. Uncomfortable places. He'd wake up having slept on his desk. Or on the floor beside his bed. Curled up on a chair. His body physically hurt from the strange sleeping positions, but it was easier to handle the physical pain than the ache that came with being in bed alone.

"Seto?" Mokuba questioned, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Dinner?"

This time he nodded in agreement, and Mokuba smiled at him.

"You want anything in particular?"

"Whatever you want," he replied, and at Mokuba's disapproving scowl, he shrugged. He saved his work and locked his computer before standing up slowly. He would come back to it later to finish up the code. Everything was in order, and once he finished, he could test his device.

Mokuba drew his attention again, asking, "I think tacos? How does that sound?"

"That's fine," Kaiba agreed, and from the look on Mokuba's face, he knew his younger brother disapproved of his apathetic answer.

Instead of saying anything about it, Mokuba sighed and waited for him to stand and follow him out the door. "I'll drive," Mokuba offered as they descended the stairs.

Wordlessly, Kaiba followed along, feeling how utterly tired his body was with each step. He glanced ahead at Mokuba, taking note of his youthful, healthy appearance, a stark contrast to Kaiba's own pallor. Mokuba looked the exact opposite of how frail Kaiba felt. His joints and muscles burned with fatigue, but he couldn't rest until he saw Joey again.

Mokuba's car was pulled around for them, the door held open for him to settle into the front passenger seat, and then closed. Mokuba took his seat behind the wheel, and then they were headed toward downtown Domino City.

"How are things?" Mokuba asked, giving him a sideways glance.

"Fine," he replied, biting his tongue to keep himself from berating Mokuba for the unnecessary question.

"Seto…" he admonished softly.

He sighed. "I'm fine, Mokuba. I've been busy."

"I still don't think you're okay, Seto. You're not _you_ anymore. Are you actually busy or are you just staying busy to distract yourself?"

He scoffed. "Of course I'm me. There's always work to be done."

"I'm worried about you. I don't want you to break down again. Seeing you on the balcony like that… I was terrified for you. If you need to talk to someone, I'm here. I'll listen. And you could always go see a therapist. I think you need to talk to someone about this."

"I'm fine," he reiterated. "Stop bringing this up."

Mokuba sighed, long and loud, before muttering, "You aren't fine."

The comment made him angry, but what could he say back when Mokuba wouldn't believe him anyway? Silence engulfed them the rest of the drive. He didn't miss the glances Mokuba cast his direction, the look on his face that said he had more to say. Even throughout dinner, conversation was scarce until Mokuba brought up work. Work was a never-ending subject, after all, and it was much easier to talk about.

They were on their way back when Mokuba asked a question Kaiba had been dreading. "So that thing you're working on with SolidVision... What does it do?"

Kaiba frowned, searching for an honest answer that didn't reveal the full truth. "It's supposed to stimulate your brain."

"So it'll like… sync up to your brain waves and then amplify them?"

"Something like that."

"That sounds cool. Do you have anything specific in mind for it?"

"I… Not really."

"I don't believe you. You wouldn't do something without a plan," Mokuba said, suspicion evident in his tone.

"It will help others generate their own realities," Seto finally said, though that too was a lie. "Stimulate the brain to keep it functioning at a higher level."

"I suppose," Mokuba mumbled as he turned his attention back to the road.

If Mokuba had nothing else to say, Kaiba wouldn't encourage him. He didn't want to answer more questions. He didn't want to make Mokuba any more suspicious of his intentions than he already seemed to be. The rest of the drive passed in silence, neither brother having anything to say. He found it strange. Mokuba was usually very chatty. He'd talk about anything. It was another of the similarities between the two, Kaiba knew. Joey and Mokuba would sit and talk about nothing for hours, and Kaiba simply watched those interactions in amusement.

A pang of longing seized his chest. Soon. He'd get to see Joey soon, he hoped. He didn't want to wait anymore. He was going to finish tonight—he had to. It couldn't be delayed any longer.

They arrived back at the manor and wordlessly walked into the house. "Goodnight, Seto," Mokuba said softly. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Mmm," he acknowledged. He didn't go to his bedroom though. He instead headed for his study, pulling out his notes once more and getting back to work. Over the course of several hours, he finished his code and then painstakingly looked through it for errors, compiling it, and loading it onto the microchip that would function as the brain of his device.

His eyes stung from how tired he was. It was already four in the morning, and he momentarily considered going to bed. Or at least, going to his bedroom to sleep for a few hours. He deemed it unnecessary. Not nearly as important as finishing and using his device. He stood up from his desk, pausing for a moment to tuck the ring box in the pocket of his trousers. If he made it, if it worked, he wanted to tell Joey about the ring. To show it to him. Perhaps even to give it to him.

He left his study to go to the basement, heading for the underground room that served as his personal lab. He unlocked the room with his fingerprint and a retina scan and marveled at the device he'd built, the pod taking up a good quarter of the available space. It had taken the longest. Constructing it without Mokuba noticing had been no small task. He'd had pieces manufactured and delivered during the day when they were both at work. He'd done all of the fine-tuning whenever Mokuba went out, welding pieces together and finalizing the design.

It was an airtight chamber that would deprive him of oxygen. He'd slowly begin to lose consciousness as the oxygen depleted. Eventually, his heart would stop, and in the time it took for that to happen, he would be stimulating his brain with the altered SolidVision code. The machine would read his heart rate and brain activity constantly, and when his brain activity began to weaken, it would inject him with adrenaline. Stop his heart and start his heart and keep his brain active in the meantime. That was specifically what he'd designed the device to do.

As he finalized his preparations, inserting the chip into its housing and doing some final checks, he considered what might happen if he didn't wake back up. If something were to go wrong, what would happen? He shook his head, discarding the thoughts. No. It would work. He'd been thorough with his research and his design. Everything had been carefully constructed to do exactly what he wanted. Each individual piece worked as he'd envisioned. Now was not the time for second thoughts. For what ifs. He was ready. And he would see Joey.

He attached several stickers on his chest, connecting them to thin cables that hung out of the pod. The stickers would perpetually monitor his heart rate. He then slid on the headset. The prongs dug into his forehead and the back of his head uncomfortably, like a vice, squeezing tightly. He powered the headset on, and it instantly synched with the machine itself, a blue light flashing rapidly before settling to a solid blue. He ran a quick calibration, watching the display show his current heart rate and brain activity. They moved across the screen quickly, taking a baseline. A normal. He would see the outcome later, he thought. How much it changed when his heart stopped and his brain function started to fade.

Steeling his nerves, he stepped into the device and lowered the lid with a single command entered on the touchscreen inside the pod. He strapped his legs and torso down, ensuring that he didn't thrash too hard and break something, either on himself or the device. He typed a few commands on the touch screen, until a prompt came up, asking him if he wanted to proceed. He touched the 'yes' button and then heard the hydraulics sealing the lid shut firmly.

He leaned back in the seat, watching as the adrenaline injector automatically positioned itself over his heart, waiting for its time.

Kaiba closed his eyes and waited, thinking of Joey. Thinking of everything he wanted to say. He reached into his pocket and ran his fingers along the ring box, the velveteen case soft against his touch. He was starting to feel tired and unfocused, the effects of the slowly depleting oxygen supply starting to become evident.

He felt his eyelids begin to flicker as he dangled right at the edge of consciousness. "Joseph…" he breathed out softly. He breathed in. And then everything faded.

—

It hadn't escaped Mokuba's notice that Seto went to his study instead of the bedroom. It was unsurprising. Ever since his breakdown, the only time he left the study was at Mokuba's request or to go to work. He'd made it something like a working bedroom. There was a small spot where he could lay his head down in the middle of his paperwork, usually over a legal pad, and catch a little sleep.

It was obvious he was still reeling, but progress had been made. Seto seemed a little more energetic despite his lack of sleep. The curious and hungry twinkle had returned to his, albeit still dull, eyes. It was a start.

The only trouble was that Mokuba had no clue why. There were no new products or developments at KaibaCorp, just the ongoing projects.

It made Seto's pitiable excuse for enhancing SolidVision increasingly suspicious. At best, it was busy work. But Seto didn't do busy work—there was always a plan or a reason. Something seven steps ahead of the technicians and engineers…

...unless it wasn't work related.

Their scarce conversation over dinner weighed on Mokuba. He'd gotten pretty good at telling when his brother was up to something. And that made it hard for him to sleep soundly.

Somewhere around midnight, he checked on Seto, shuffling by the study like he was heading downstairs. The lights were still on, and he could still hear Seto typing. Somewhere around two in the morning, he got up again, and nothing had changed.

By four in the morning, Mokuba got up to check one last time. Regardless of whether or not Seto was working or had passed out on the desk, he planned on sending him to the bedroom to sleep, though he knew that Seto refused to sleep in the actual bed. Baby steps. He couldn't keep haranguing Seto, or they would go backwards.

Light spilling out from beneath the door wasn't a good sign. Mokuba sighed and poked his head in, knocking lightly. But it was empty.

"Seto?" he asked.

He glanced around the room, making sure he hadn't missed his brother on the chaise or the floor. As he did, he went up to the desk, curious at the absolute disarray it was in. Seto hadn't let him too close in the last few months.

Papers and folders were strewn everywhere. One was a set of complicated, hand-drawn schematics layered on top of one another, with Seto's typeset handwriting marked all over it. "A...virtual reality pod?" Mokuba asked aloud. That would go hand-in-hand with enhancing SolidVision, but the further he looked into it the more...basic it seemed. It lacked most of the normal components needed to run the software, though there were extensive notes and designs for monitoring vitals, particularly brain waves.

The more he rifled over Seto's desk, the more concerned he became. Articles and studies about the effects oxygen deprivation and how long a human could withstand it. Information on near death experiences and their chemical makeup, along with the possibilities of an Afterlife. Studies of brain death.

Mokuba shuddered. There was no way that Seto was this stupid. He couldn't have designed something so terrible. But Mokuba knew that was wrong. Seto had designed plenty of terrible machines in the past, but they weren't meant to intentionally hurt him or...

The words all blurred together, and Mokuba's hands shook. No. He wouldn't let Seto go through whatever this was. Killing himself incrementally, scientifically, to the point where he was toeing the line between fact and fiction.

Storming out of the study, Mokuba headed towards the bedroom and burst through, planning to demand answers from the source. Seto would tell him everything; he wasn't getting a choice. After, he was going to a therapist. Period. No questions asked.

But he wasn't there. It looked like he hadn't even been in the bedroom all day, though Mokuba checked to make sure he wasn't curled up by the bed.

Mokuba's panic skyrocketed, and he peeled out of the bedroom. He thundered down to the main floor and searched through most of the rooms, calling out Seto's name as he did. All the while, he kept looking to the schematics, noting how large the pod was. It wasn't something that would be sitting around the parlor; in fact, it was large enough that it probably couldn't have fit in most of the rooms.

But it could fit in the lab.

Sighing, Mokuba headed towards the basement. He steeled himself for whatever he might see—hopefully, Seto was just tinkering on the machine, and Mokuba could catch him red-handed. What he'd do, or what he'd say, he wasn't sure. The stream of conscious thoughts in his head were full of admonishment, and he suspected that he'd just start yelling at Seto about his recklessness from some random point while trying to tell him that there were people who were worried for him.

But Mokuba's mind blanked when he saw the pod.

Seto laid inside it, his head flopped back and body slackened. As if he had fallen asleep while working on it. But the glass was down, and he wore a glowing headset.

"Seto!"

Mokuba rushed the pod, slapping his hands against the glass to try and stir his brother awake. He smacked it until his palms stung and his arms shook, tears brimming in his eyes. "Seto, you have to get out. C'mon! Tell me how to open this thing!" he demanded. His fingers searched the edge of the lid, trying to find a crevice to grip and force the lid open. It was so smooth, his nails couldn't even ease into a small sliver. Air-tight. An ultimate, controlled environment.

"Goddammit, Seto…," he seethed.

Shaking his head, Mokuba tried to turn his attention to something on the inside that might help him, but everything about the pod made his guts clench. He was so close that he could peer in and see the dangerously weak vitals displayed near Seto. He didn't even want to know what the hovering needle was for.

Seto was so pale, so nearly transparent, that his veins glowed. Particularly along his cheeks and down his hands.

Mokuba stared at Seto's hands as he searched for something he could use to leverage the pod open. Seto's hands were neatly folded on his stomach in a way that he looked beyond relaxed. He looked at peace, just like Joey had in the casket.

Fighting back tears, Mokuba tore away from the pod, not wanting the images in his head. In his panic, he considered grabbing a wrench and bashing through the glass. Common sense took over, and instead, he went to the console on the side of the pod. There had to be an override somewhere. He hoped. That was assuming that Seto was thorough in his madness.

Before he got started, he pulled out his phone and dialed for Roland, placing it on speakerphone and listening to it trill.

His fingers flew over the keys, skimming through what had to be thousands of lines of code in hopes of finding a few new scraps of data. Some kind of backdoor or killswitch to revert the changes made to SolidVision's original programming.

Roland answered the phone and yawned out: "Master Mokuba?"

"We have an emergency."

"Of what sort?" Roland asked, quick to attention.

"Life-threatening. I need you to call emergency services, but...try to be discreet."

A few tense moments passed. Mokuba heard Roland getting ready. "What's wrong with Master Seto?"

Looking up to Seto, Mokuba's inwardly shuddered. His chest was barely moving.

Focus. He needed to focus. His fingers jammed so hard on the keys he thought they would pop off. Somewhere. It had to be in the mass of code somewhere.

"It's hard to explain," Mokuba said.

"Has he…?"

"No! No, not yet, but...we don't have much time. I have to...I have to just...And I can't..." Tears clouded Mokuba's vision, and he roughly rubbed them away.

"Breathe, Master Mokuba. It's going to be alright," Roland said.

A haggard breath escaped Mokuba. "Yeah, yeah sure," he said and nodded his head. "We're in the lab. Just hurry up and get here. Please. He doesn't have much time…"

—

Joey honestly had no idea how long he'd been here. It felt both as though it had been forever while simultaneously being no time at all. If he really thought about it, it was as though the concept of time simply didn't exist. He looked at the watch on his wrist. The watch Seto had given him, he recalled fondly, but it didn't seem to work anymore. Or at least, the hands had ceased to move. He wasn't sure if that was because it didn't work or if this world without time had stopped it permanently.

The world he was trapped in stretched in all directions, an all consuming white. Brief glimmers of what seemed to be the real world occasionally appeared in hazy patches.

Sometimes it was the manor.

Sometimes the penthouse.

But they always featured Seto.

He had an innate awareness that he was dead. "I 'spose I'm a ghost," he mused aloud, voice swallowed by the white void, leaving an eerie silence behind.

In his mind, he heard his name called. _Joseph_. He abruptly turned, trying to find the source.

"Seto?" he called, hoping for any indication that he wasn't alone in the great expanse, even as his words died as soon as he spoke them.

It was something he'd experienced before. Seto calling for him, and he'd call out for Seto in return. Nothing ever came of it. It felt like he was stuck. Waiting. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He didn't even recall how long he'd been waiting, just that he was.

He sighed and closed his eyes. If he was dead, why was no one here? Shouldn't he have seen people he knew? Grandpa? Atem? Hell, even his dad? Why didn't he ever hear anyone else? Why was it always Seto?

A loud boom sounded in the distance, startling him out of his thoughts, eyes opening wide in surprise. Despite how his own voice was silenced by the void, the explosive force reverberated through the world, echoing across the empty space. He noticed a flickering light penetrating the consuming whiteness, and he sprinted towards it, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get closer. It seemed as though he ran forever, getting no closer, and then all at once, he surged forward and had made it, gazing into the bright light. When it extinguished, Seto stood before him, and with a sudden clarity, he understood he'd been waiting for Seto's arrival.

He couldn't help the way his body trembled in excitement nor the way his heart fluttered at seeing Seto again. "Joseph?" he asked, voice wavering as he stumbled closer.

Joey rushed toward him, snaking his arms around Seto's torso and pulling him close, almost trying to meld them together. Seto reciprocated, holding him just as tightly, suffocatingly so, but Joey was content.

"I missed you," Seto said softly, voice cracking as he did so. Joey looked up at him, seeing tears stream down his cheeks.

"I missed ya, too," Joey said, enjoying the warmth that radiated from Seto and the way his familiar scent filled his nose. "Ain't nobody here but me and all this white." As he said it, he looked up. The world was slowly starting to shift, muted colors filling in the barren world, taking the shape of trees and painting the sky cerulean. "That's weird."

Seto pulled back to gaze into Joey's eyes, the tears still falling out of his own, seemingly unable to stop. "I'm here now," he whispered. This clingy and emotional Seto, so different from what he was accustomed to, put him on edge.

"Seto, what's the matter?" he asked, reaching up to cup his cheeks in between both hands.

"I miss you," he answered with a sigh, clutching Joey's shirt and holding him close.

"Well, we're together now, right?" Joey offered.

"I can't stay here," he said bitterly. "I have to go back."

"What's 'at supposed to mean?"

"I'm not dead, Joseph."

"Then what are ya doin' here?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion. Wasn't it time to move on? Wasn't his wait finished?

"I needed to see you."

"Why?"

"I just… I needed to," Seto admitted, leaning forward and resting his forehead on Joey's shoulder. "I can't figure out how I'm supposed to live without you."

Joey could hear the sincerity in his words, the depth of the despair he felt. His heart raced, glad that he meant so much. Seto had never once said anything like that to him before. However, he understood that Seto was hovering between life and death in order to be here. Intentionally endangering himself for this meeting. And that… that wasn't okay. "So you're gonna kill yourself for me? As flatterin' as that seems, don't. I'll never forgive ya."

"No. Not kill myself. It's very controlled. I built this technology, and it'll keep me-"

"You're still dyin'! It'll work until it don't, and then you'll really die. Like... do you hear yourself, Seto? Ya sound crazy. Ain't no way in hell Moki's okay with this."

A soft sigh. "Mokuba doesn't know. No one knows. I couldn't let anyone stop me."

Joey scowled at him, trying to push him away. "So ya know he'd stop ya 'cause you're bein' ridiculous, and yet, ya didn't stop?"

"I know," he admitted. "But it's been four months. Four long, painful months, and I never got to say goodbye. I didn't even kiss you before I left that morning. I didn't come home on time like you asked. I could have found you and gotten you help before it was too late. Maybe you'd still be alive if I'd come home on time. Maybe you'd still be alive if I'd forced you to treat your wound."

"Ain't nothin' either of us can do now. I don't blame ya for that. Don't feel guilty."

Seto sighed. "I also regret not proposing when I had the chance," he admitted quietly.

"Proposing?" Joey asked, finding the word foreign in his mouth, but his heart stuttered with excitement anyway.

He nodded. "I had a ring made."

Joey smiled, suddenly giddy. "I'd 'ave told ya no," he teased. "At least, I woulda at first. Then I'd 'ave thought about it some and come and apologized and said yes."

"I worried that you'd tell me no. That's why I hesitated. If I asked you now, what would you say?"

"That I'm dead, and ya can't marry a dead man."

"Joseph…" he trailed off sternly.

Joey rolled his eyes. "If I wasn't dead, yes. I'd tell you yes." He watched Seto dig into his jacket pocket and pull out a silver ring. It was extended to him, and he plucked it from Seto's hand, experimentally sliding it onto his finger and admiring it. He chuckled softly, disbelieving. "I really can't believe you wanted to label us after nine years."

Seto replied with a hum of consideration, causing Joey to chuckle. With a sigh, he worked the ring off his finger, and pulling Seto's hand to him, he pressed the ring back into his open palm, forcing Seto to close his fingers around it. "What are you doing?"

"I want ya to hold onto it for me."

Seto's eyes clouded in confusion, somewhere between uncertain and hurt. "Why?"

"I want ya to promise that you'll go back and wake up and live your life. I don't wanna steal ya away from Moki before it's your time," Joey explained with a sigh. "If the ring ain't gonna be a promise of a life together, it can symbolize your promise to me to live your life. If ya come back, and ya ain't dead for real, I ain't gonna talk to you. I ain't gonna forgive ya. Make that your promise to me and seal it with that ring, okay?"

"No," Seto said firmly. "I can't promise that."

"You have to," Joey insisted. "What you're doin' sounds real dangerous. Tempting fate."

"I control my own fate. I always have."

"I know. But this is fuckin' risky, Seto. What if somethin' doesn't work and you die? Can ya imagine how Moki will feel if you leave him behind, too? First me, then you? It would break him. I know it would. So go back to him and stop doin' dangerous shit, okay? You don't need to worry about me here. I think I'm stuck here until ya join me for real or somethin', and time doesn't really… move. I ain't gonna know how long it's been. I promise I ain't gonna forget ya. Couldn't even if I wanted to, ya bastard. And I'll be waitin' for you to really come and stay here with me. To bring me back my ring so I can wear it forever."

Seto's gaze met his, and he sighed. "I'm still going to miss you."

"I'm gonna miss ya, too, but you gotta be there for Moki. He ain't gonna have anyone else without his big brother. And you've still got him, too. You'll be fine."

"Okay," Seto finally said, resigned. "Okay, Joseph."

He grinned, having gotten Seto to agree, a rarity. "How much longer do ya got?"

"I don't know."

"Then come here." And Joey latched onto his sleeve and tugged him close. Seto stumbled into him, and he pressed their lips together. He memorized the feel and taste, breathing in everything that was Seto because he knew it would be a while until he experienced this again. Seto grasped at him in desperation, muttering undistinguishable words against his lips, holding him tightly.

Lightning struck right behind them, vibrating the surface they stood on, but there was no heat. Seto's lips left his, instead resting their foreheads together. "I think this is it."

"Yeah," Joey agreed, gently cupping Seto's cheek.

The lightning struck closer, and Seto started to fade into the hazy background of the white world. "I love you, Joseph."

"I love you too, Seto," he said. He pressed one final kiss against Seto's lips. "I'll see ya later."

"Mmm."

And then Seto was gone.

—

Mokuba found the backdoor of the program after several agonising minutes and waited a few more as he weighed the option of what might happen during a shutdown. He didn't think it was possible to leave Seto locked in the pod. Total shutdown meant everything should have disengaged. But a small voice in the back of his head told him not to risk it, convincing him that Seto hadn't set up the proper failsafes. If it really was meant to kill him, why would the details matter?

But what if it wasn't meant to kill him? There were easier and less painful ways to die, and abased on Seto's extensive notes, dying wasn't the goal. Almost dying was. And he could guess the reason why: he wanted to risk everything and break the natural order just to see Joey again. That thought made his heart hurt, and only made the decision harder. Because he knew where Seto was coming from, had seen his grief, and felt it, too. Seto was just willing to try harder than most people.

Ultimately, his finger hovered over the enter key while he stayed locked in debate, glancing up at Seto and desperately hoping for some kind of definite answer. A sign; divine intervention.

Not long after, the pod began to flash red, drawing Mokuba out of the hazy mental battle. At first, he thought he'd actually gone through with it and crippled the machine in the process.

Instead, he heard the mechanical 'click' of a lock as it disengaged. The hydraulics on the pod hissed, and the glass door drifted open.

Something inside the pod was still moving around as Mokuba stumbled over, his eyes darting over Seto. A small trail of blood traced around the stickers on his chest. The needle had drawn back.

"Seto?" he whispered.

No reaction.

Mokuba crawled up close to Seto, unstrapping him and sliding his arm beneath his brother's shoulders, sitting him upright. His skin was cool to the touch, and his lips had turned a light shade of blue, with frothy bubbles in the corners of his mouth. "Seto. Seto talk to me," Mokuba begged. "Breathe. Do something. Anything."

Carefully, Mokuba hugged Seto, enveloping him in warmth and waiting to feel the gentle in and out of his chest expanding. The heart rate monitor on the console said that he was alive, even if the heartbeat was quick and threaded. He was there; that's what the monitors said. But not even a strangled breath escaped him.

It came all at once. A deep, ravenous intake of air that nearly threw them both back into the pod. Mokuba clambered around his brother, pressing Seto close to his side.

Relief washed over Mokuba like a wave, and the tears started back up again. This time out of relief as opposed to fear.

The breaths that followed were short and raspy, but at least he was breathing. Just in time to hear footsteps clambering down the stairs. Roland walked ahead of two paramedics, leading them over to the brothers.

Mokuba plucked the stickers from Seto's chest, and he took hold of Seto's hand to try and guide him upright in his unconsciousness. "There's people here to take of you. You need help, and you can't tell me no. Alright?"

The paramedics, with Mokuba's help, lifted Seto onto the stretcher. He refused to let go of Seto's hand the entirety of the walk out of the lab, and he felt Seto's fingers twitching against his palm. Bitterly, Mokuba thought they were just spasming nerves coming back to life, but when he shifted around for the paramedics to ease him into the back of the ambulance, Seto reached out and gripped his pinky finger in a vice, refusing to let go.

Mokuba hopped up into the ambulance, holding Seto's hand so his grip eased.

It took a moment to notice that Seto had woken, his eyes opened to slats, but he wasn't completely there. He refused to answer any of the paramedics questions, though Mokuba was convinced he heard them. Instead, a vague and dreamy expression appeared on his face, and he cast faraway looks to the back door. Mokuba was hesitant to call it happy; he wasn't smiling, but for the first time in four months, it looked like a weight had been lifted from Seto's chest.

—

Tristan crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the far wall of the elevator. "Feels weird to be headed to visit Kaiba in the hospital," he remarked.

Yugi nodded. "I kind of figured he was going to do something crazy. He was so… vacant after Joey died, you know?"

"Yeah," Tristan agreed. Internally, he beat himself up a bit, feeling guilty. He'd promised to look after Kaiba, and yet, he'd done nothing. Not that there was much he could have actually done if Mokuba hadn't been able to stop him, either. "So do you know exactly what he did?"

The elevator reached the fourth floor, stopping with a ding. "Not specifically. Mokuba didn't say much beyond Kaiba had used some dangerous technology and that he'd almost died."

They were on their way down the hall, looking for room 423, and Tristan asked, "Do you think he tried to kill himself?"

"I don't know," Yugi admitted. "But it doesn't really seem like him. I figure, if he wanted to do that, he'd have done it sooner."

He nodded. Yugi was right. If Kaiba wanted to join Joey in death, he'd have done it months ago. He still felt ashamed of himself for waiting so long regardless. He could have just barged in and demanded to see him, dragged him out like Joey always used to do. If nothing else, he could have at least gone to check in on him. Mokuba definitely would have allowed it.

They both stopped a few feet away from the door for room 423, easily distinguished by Roland standing in the doorway speaking to Mokuba. Mokuba noticed them and waved, a tired, somewhat strained smile on his face. "Hey!" he called.

Roland looked over his shoulder, registering their presence, before nodding at whatever Mokuba had just said to him and then turned to walk toward them. He gave them a slight bow in acknowledgement as they passed each other. Tristan noted how exhausted the bodyguard looked, and he imagined Roland had probably had a rough day. No matter what had happened, Tristan knew that it had to have been Kaiba's own doing. And it would have been hard to save Kaiba from himself, despite how much the bodyguard wished he could have.

"How are things, Mokuba?" Yugi asked quietly as they stepped closer.

"Seto's doing okay. His heart rate and breathing have been stable. He's sleeping right now, but it looks like he's going to fully recover. The doctors aren't sure how he survived, since he was technically dead. I think I heard one of the nurses call it a 'miracle'."

"What happened, kid?" Tristan asked.

"He…," Mokuba frowned, biting on his lower lip and looking like he was fighting back tears. "I don't know. We had a conversation last night that just… didn't sit right. I couldn't sleep well. I kept waking up to check on him. Then he was gone, and when I found him he was in some pod he designed. God, it was terrible." Mokuba drew a deep, shuddered breath, the trauma unsurprisingly still fresh in his mind. "I asked him about what happened, and he won't tell me specifics, but from what I can tell, the pod was supposed to hold him right at the edge of death and then bring him back."

"He was trying to see Joey," Yugi concluded sagely.

Mokuba nodded. "I think so, too."

"Did it work?" Tristan asked.

Mokuba looked at him, confused. "I guess? He's alive."

"No. I mean… did he see Joey?"

"I don't know," Mokuba replied.

Tristan shook his head and trudged into the room, leaving Mokuba and Yugi to talk in the hallway. Kaiba was leaned back on the hospital bed, connected to a heart rate monitor and an IV. His eyes were closed, and he looked far more vulnerable than Tristan had ever seen him. He averted his gaze, not wanting to see Kaiba like this. It felt too private. Like it was something he wasn't allowed to see.

"What do you want?" Kaiba asked groggily, shifting around in the bed. The bed whirred as Kaiba raised himself into a sitting position.

Tristan met his gaze and held it. "Did it work, Kaiba?"

Kaiba's eyes glazed over momentarily with a faraway look, as if he could see through Tristan. They snapped back into focus, and he answered, "Yes."

"You saw him?"

"I did. He's as stubborn as ever." The words were spoken reluctantly, Kaiba's voice nearly a whisper, but he had the faintest of smiles on his face.

Tristan's mind flooded with questions, but before he could ask any of them, Yugi and Mokuba approached, and he bit them back. It was unlikely that Kaiba would answer his questions anyway. This was probably all he'd ever get to know, and it sounded like he'd just heard more than even Mokuba had.

He sat down and listened to Mokuba and Yugi talk, casting periodic glances Kaiba's way. He looked… energetic again. Back to his old self. Tristan still felt like he'd broken a promise for not being there at all, but listening to the brothers talk was reassuring. Kaiba had, apparently, agreed to see a therapist at Mokuba's demand and the recommendation of the doctor who'd treated him. They were discussing how much time Kaiba should take off of work and which therapist he should see. He didn't seem… eager about it, necessarily, just willing. Like how he was when he came to the bar with Joey. Not necessarily happy about it but willing. For Joey's sake.

Idly, he wondered if, maybe, this was for Joey's sake, too.

 _Probably_ , he decided.

It wasn't something he'd ever actually know. And it didn't really matter. Clearly, seeing Joey in the afterlife had given Kaiba a reason to live again.

—

When Serenity had suggested the idea, Mokuba had been entirely on board. Throwing a Christmas party to keep them all occupied as they came upon the anniversary of Joey's death seemed like a good idea. And honestly, it was. Everyone was excited about having a party at the manor. Even the staff buzzed about the manor in preparation, putting up decorations and cooking. The only person who had seemed unenthused was Seto, and Mokuba couldn't say he found that entirely surprising. Seto never looked forward to forced social events.

What Mokuba hadn't considered until now, moments after Serenity's arrival and knowing everyone else would be arriving shortly, was that it might be too much for Seto to handle. His mental state had improved drastically. He had dealt with his feelings of loss and had found a new routine. Mokuba wouldn't say that his brother was happy, but he no longer worried for Seto like he had the first several months. However, despite how well things were going, there was always the possibility that something might upset him, and he worried this would be one of those things. Especially now, when he hadn't seen Seto since a brief visit in the morning, poking his head into Seto's bedroom and finding him still in bed, reminding him that they were having guests over later in the day. Seto hadn't seemed upset then, simply nodding in acknowledgement, but now Mokuba couldn't find him anywhere.

A moment of panic swept through him, passing just as quickly, as he recalled the last time he hadn't been able to find Seto. The image of his big brother, strapped into a machine and not breathing still haunted him. Seto had been so close to dying that the doctors who examined him after the fact weren't entirely sure how he'd survived. He'd woken up a changed person, and no matter how hard Mokuba tried to find out what had happened to Seto at the precipice of death, his older brother wouldn't explain it further than, "I did what I needed to do. You don't need to worry about me anymore, Mokuba. Everything is okay."

Mokuba hadn't believed him at first, but after therapy Seto's showed signs of significant improvement. And though the thought had crossed his mind, he knew he wouldn't find Seto in the machine again. Seto had asked him to get rid of it shortly after his near death experience, and he'd done so promptly, eager to have the device that had almost taken his brother away from him gone. That, of course, meant Seto had to be somewhere else. Likely not gone, as Roland stood in the foyer entertaining Grace, who giggled at the faces he made. Not that he couldn't drive himself, but he usually didn't if someone was available to do so for him because time spent driving was time he could be working instead.

Mokuba looked around, considering where he should start looking first. Grace squealed, distracting him from his thoughts, and he turned to look at her. The young girl extended her arms toward him. "I think she wants you to hold her," Serenity said.

"I'm going to go look for Seto since I'm not sure where he is. You should probably hold onto her for now."

"Go ahead and take her," Serenity insisted. "She loves Uncle Seto."

"Uncle Seto?" Mokuba asked. "He and Joey weren't married."

Serenity simply shook her head. "I have no idea where she got that from. She doesn't really speak very much, but he must have made an impression. She's got 'Mama', 'Dada,' and 'Nn Se oh.' I can't figure out who else that would be."

"Yeah, it probably is him," Mokuba said with a smile, shaking his head. "Wonder if he told her to call him that…"

"Don't know. I do have some stuff to unpack for the party, so if you could take her for a minute, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure thing," Mokuba agreed, and then Grace was transferred into his arms. Serenity wasted no time in getting the gifts she'd brought set out, and Mokuba headed off to find Seto with Grace in tow.

He wandered upstairs at first, checking to make sure Seto hadn't managed to sneak back into his study. When that was empty, he continued down the hall, looking for opened doors, hoping to find Seto in an unusual spot. After nearly twenty minutes spent searching, Seto really didn't seem to be anywhere. He was about to go take Grace back to Serenity, but she tugged at his shirt and pointed to a door that usually only staff used since it led directly to their parking area.

"Do you want to go outside?" he asked her, not expecting an answer from the one and a half year old. "It's awful cold."

He turned to head back into the living area, but she started crying, chin crinkled and big tears falling down her face. He relented but didn't turn back. "We should both put coats on first, kiddo."

At Mokuba's request, a member of the staff brought out their coats, and within moments, they were outside. That's where he finally found Seto, sitting out on a bench a distance away from the house that was placed in front of Joey's grave. It didn't take long to reach him, and as they got closer, Grace wanted down. She wriggled in his arms, and finally giving in, he set her feet on the ground, watching her intently as she teetered over to Seto, whose attention never left where he was staring into space, even as he bent over and picked her up.

Mokuba smiled at the sight and then turned his gaze to the ornate headstone. Seto had, upon waking up, designed it, saying it was for both of them. "For Joseph. And for me, when my time really comes," he'd said. A marble Blue-Eyes entwined with a granite Red-Eyes, the two dragons wrapped around each other in such a way that they almost seemed to be one. The carving sprung up from two far more traditional headstones, placed within inches of each other. Their names had been carved out on their respective headstones, both filled with information except for Seto's date of death. It was simultaneously beautiful and ostentatious, exactly Seto's style, which meant Joey would have probably found it far too extravagant.

He chuckled at the thought, imagining the argument. "I'm not gonna be buried next to ya if ya insist on havin' that monstrosity. Why ya even talkin' about graveyards and tombstones? Ya know I can't stand scary shit."

And Seto would have given him some hardheaded response, not willing to compromise, at least not in the heat of the argument, but Mokuba knew he'd have revisited the design and toned things down enough for Joey to agree.

He sighed and shook his head. A soft, contemplative smile curled his lips upward. Seto had reached a state where he accepted that Joey was gone, and it warmed Mokuba's heart to see him visiting the only person he'd let into his life willingly and loved completely.

Seto suddenly stood, waking Mokuba from the thoughts that he'd found himself lost in. He watched as Seto adjusted Grace into a more comfortable position. Mokuba noticed a ring he'd never seen before glittering on Seto's finger in the sunlight.

"I suppose our guests are here," Seto mused.

"Serenity is, though some of the others might have gotten here since I left to find you." His attention was still fixed on the ring, a simple, flat white-gold band, featuring a dragon engraving.

"Mm."

"Didn't think I'd find you out here, honestly," Mokuba said, sticking his hands in his coat pockets, keeping them warm as they began to walk back to the manor at a slow and steady pace.

"I visit Joseph every day," Seto said quietly. He twisted the ring with his thumb in a seemingly subconscious manner.

"You do?" Mokuba asked incredulously. "I never see you out here."

Seto shrugged. "You aren't always here. He is."

"What's the ring about?" Mokuba asked suddenly, curiosity piqued the more he looked at it.

Seto stayed silent for a long moment, no longer walking as he held out his hand to look at the band and stalling their return to the manor. "I was going to give it to Joseph last year." A forlorn smile appeared on his face. "I was ready to define us. Now, it's simply a symbol of a promise."

Mokuba's jaw dropped. He hadn't known that. Seto had never mentioned it before now. "You were going to marry him?"

Seto nodded. He stayed silent after that, continuing the walk back to the manor. Apparently, he wasn't going to say anymore about the subject, and Mokuba was willing to let it go. After all, Seto had found peace.

And nothing else mattered.

—

Joey thought he'd surely wandered the entirety of the white expanse, but there seemed to be no beginning or end. It simply was. It existed. As did he.

He didn't know how long it had been since Seto had visited, the watch hands still remained unhelpfully stationary, but it was the only thing he thought about. He was waiting for Seto to join him. He didn't eat or sleep. He neither needed to nor was there food to eat or a bed to sleep in. He heard his name whispered through the void sometimes. A soft call, hushed words he almost couldn't distinguish, but he knew, somehow, that Seto was speaking to him in those moments.

Then suddenly the calls grew louder, echoing through the void, each one splashing the background with color. Vibrant greens and blues spreading across the distance, and he knew without a doubt Seto had made it.

He materialized in front of Joey, an aged man with white hair and wrinkled skin, but the eyes couldn't have belonged to anyone else. Joey's heart soared in elation. He'd kept his promise. He'd lived his life. And he was here. He was finally here.

He peered into Seto's blue eyes, and he smiled. "You're finally the Blue-Eyed White Dragon you always wanted to be," Joey teased.

Seto rolled his eyes, fighting down a chuckle, but the smirk on his face betrayed him. "That's not funny," he insisted. As he did so, Joey watched as Seto de-aged in front of him. From elderly, to middle-aged, to the 20-something he'd come to adore, his hair going from white to brown in the process.

Joey shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Seto shook his head, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards, pressing it to Joey's chest. "Your deck," he explained. "I kept it for you."

Joey took it into his hands, fanning the cards out and gazing fondly at his monsters. "We duelin' in the afterlife?"

"I have my deck with me, too," Seto shared. "I'm still never going to let you win."

"Heh, I've got an eternity to beat ya now. I'll get lucky at least a couple of times."

Seto chuckled, and then lifted his hands to pull the ring off. He reached out to take Joey's hand into his own. "This is yours, too," he said, gently sliding it into place on Joey's finger. "Just as promised."

Joey grinned, tears of happiness blurring his vision, and then he entwined their fingers, squeezing tightly. "Right where it belongs," he remarked, biting at his lower lip to prevent himself from crying even harder.

Seto bent down slightly to kiss him. "It's where I belong, too."

"With me?"

A nod and a brilliant, happy smile. "Yes. Forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lafeae: this has been a hell of a ride, and we hoped you appreciated it along the way. We figured the ending was apt. :3 there is some light at the end of the tunnel! Tell us what you think, and keep your eyes peeled...there may be something else in store.
> 
> Arafax: Thank you so much for sticking with us! This whole crazy idea started because I one time wondered, "So what kind of crazy thing do you think Kaiba would do if Joey died?" and then it just got so much bigger. I've really enjoyed this exploration, and I hope you have too, despite the pain. Hopefully, the end makes up for it a bit.


End file.
